Truly Madly Deeply (again)
by Chrisami
Summary: Sarah Dean just lost the second most important thing in her life. Frodo took it from her. Life in Middle-Earth is hard for a 20th-century gal, eh? Chapter 11 up! The cliffhanger is unhung! REVIEW!
1. Prologue Part 1

Disclaimer:  
  
What I don't own: Tolkien's stuff, Linkin Park songs, Stand By Me,  
  
What I do own: Sarah, Ryan, most of the plot, my dignity (I hope)  
  
A/N: Ladies and gents, welcome to my story. My name is Chrisami, and I'll be your host for this little shindig. My assistant- oh, okay, he's my muse and all my inspiration, is Ian. I hope you enjoy!  
  
Well, here it is. I wanted to keep it pretty short, so here it is. Review! And since this story actually has a prequel of sorts, this is only part 1 of the prologue. I wanna explain the basic premise, for those who don't want to read "A Wizard's Plot". BUT YOU SHOULD ANYWAY!  
  
And then you should review!  
  
Okay, okay, I'm getting on with it.  
  
Prologue: Part 1  
  
  
  
It was dark and surprisingly cold within the hard rock walls. It was a large room with a low ceiling, painfully dark, but enough light came in through the slits of windows for every corner to be discerned. The floor was bare, not even hay covering it to deaden the footfalls which announced an execution as often as not. Now, the guard walked more quickly, because he had a higher purpose than simply shoving food at the silent prisoner.  
  
He crossed the room, locking the door behind him to assure no escape. The prisoner was bound to the wall by shackles on hands and feet, forcing a constant standing position with the arms above the head. Sometimes, when the guard entered, he would find the prisoner slumped over, resting all weight on the metal around the tightened wrists. But the prisoner would quickly stand when the guard came close.  
  
Now, he could see that the prisoner was standing tall and proud, almost waiting for something. Head upright, even though strands of grimy hair hung unshaken over the face. The guard slowed in surprise. The prisoner was singing.  
  
"I put my trust  
  
in you,  
  
I pushed as far as I can go,  
  
for all this,  
  
there's only one thing you should know…  
  
I've tried so hard  
  
and come so far,  
  
but in the end,  
  
it doesn't even matter,  
  
I had to fall,  
  
to lose it all,  
  
but in the end,  
  
it doesn't even matter…"  
  
The tune was slow, melodic, painful. The prisoner met the guard's eyes, and smiled bitterly.  
  
"Too slow for ya? Perhaps you'd prefer something lighter, to brighten the mood in this thoughtful place…  
  
When the night has come,  
  
And the land is dark,  
  
And the moon is the only  
  
Light you see  
  
No, I won't be afraid  
  
No, I won't be afraid,  
  
Just as long, as you stand  
  
Stand by me…  
  
Oh, sorry, that one is slow, too. I suppose I'm not in the mood for cheerful songs right now. Would you like to sing? I'm sure we could work out a chipper duet-"  
  
The guard slapped the prisoner hard across the face. "Impertinent. You'd best learn some respect, criminal, before you go before our great King. I'd venture you've spent enough time down here, eh, and now you're ready to speak?"  
  
The prisoner laughed. "You do not know me well enough, kind guard! Of course I will not speak- how long have you known me? How long have you been serving me wonderful gourmet meals and allowing me passage to relieve myself? I wish to know the name of my esteemed escort!"  
  
The guard kicked the wall right next to the prisoner, but the prisoner didn't even wince. "You may call me Heaven, criminal, because without me, you would truly live in hell." He eyed the prisoner, who stared straight ahead. "And what, criminal, is your name?"  
  
The prisoner turned and looked at the guard intensely for a moment, as though remembering a thousand lifetimes.  
  
"If you are Heaven then I am an angel. But you may call me Sarah, I suppose. My name is no matter. The King owns it, though he holds no power over person. May it be a trifle to you, good guard, carelessly cast aside and forgotten."  
  
"Sarah…" the guard mumbled. "So you refuse to speak to the King for yet another day?"  
  
"C'mon, buddy, every day you ask me this and every day I say the same thing! Get a clue!"  
  
This was too much for the guard. He aimed for the first thing that came to mind, that wouldn't kill her. He slammed her right arm viciously to the rock wall, breaking the forearm, but she only let out a quick breath.  
  
He glared at her, and she only stood completely still. He had done this before, once breaking her foot, and another time opening a gash in her leg. Both had healed by this time, though. Month after month, she gave him nothing but flippant retorts, witty jokes, and occasional poetic laments. She never cried out, and she never revealed her purpose in his land. How he hated the prisoner.  
  
"I will be back tomorrow," he spat.  
  
"I look forward to it, dear Heaven!"  
  
  
  
~~~ Review, eh? 


	2. Prologue Part 2

Disclaimer: Hee hee hee.  
  
Oh, wait, that's not a disclaimer, is it?  
  
P.S.- I don't own Tolkien stuff. I don't own Jars of Clay. I don't own the Phantom of the Opera. I don't own nuthin'. But if I find another story out there about twins who travel to Middle-Earth and the girl's name is Sarah, I'm gonna kill someone -this actually happened! Its out there somewhere right now. Being all LIKE MINE! But not as good. Really. WAIT! NO! Don't leave me! PLEASE!  
  
*sigh* I need to stop telling them stuff like that, huh.  
  
Ian: Yep.  
  
  
  
Prologue 2- The Hobbits  
  
Meriadoc Brandybuck heaved a weighty pack over his shoulder, shifted it to a comfortable spot, and brushed a curl of hair out of his eyes. He had just finished a long day of hard work, and he looked forward to meeting up with Pippin soon. He hadn't seen his friend since the rather disastrous mishap involving three chickens, a barrel of molasses, and lots of gravity. He missed Pippin.  
  
"Thanks, Lily, I'll be off now!" he cried, and the hobbit-lass came running.  
  
"Father is so grateful for your help with the firewood, Merry! Er, may I call you Merry?" She eyed him, and he shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like the way she was looking at him.  
  
"You may call me anything you like, Miss Lily. But I'd better be going now, I've got to meet a friend, all right?" He grinned hopefully, but she didn't catch his very open hint. Couldn't she understand- he wasn't interested in romance right now? And besides, Frodo was leaving for Crickhollow any day now.  
  
"Oh, surely you can stay for dinner, at least! I'd love to get to know you more." She batted her eyelashes.  
  
This was getting to be a bit too much. Why did girls always react to him like this? "Sorry, Lily, but I have to go. Right, ah, right now. Goodbye, and fair tidings!" He ran off pointedly, before she could object.  
  
Merry had been having more and more trouble lately with this kind of thing. He just rolled his eyes. "Girls," he muttered. "More dangerous than a pack of wargs in a lightning storm."  
  
***  
  
Peregrin Took licked his fingers with the tip of his tongue, enjoying every last bit of the delicious pie his mother had finished cooking.  
  
"PIPPIN!" one of his sisters cried shrilly, "COME HELP MOTHER WITH HER DRESS! WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN A FEW MINUTES! AND DON'T YOU DARE THINK SHE'LL LET YOU GO OFF WITH MERRY TONIGHT- YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD COME WITH US!"  
  
Pippin sighed, and hopped to his feet. He put his hands on his hips. "Now, then, young Peregrin," he said out loud. "We have ourselves a conundrum. Do we stay and suffer through another endless visit to the aunt and uncle's place… or do we climb out the window before P**** can tumble in here and take us by the ear? Hmmmm… this is a mystery, then…"  
  
He barely heard his sister's earsplitting shrieks, because he was already halfway down the lane by the time they realized he was gone.  
  
Pippin thought maybe Merry would meet him, as usual, at the corner of Farmer Maggot's west cornfield. It had been a week since they collaborated, and Pippin hoped that Merry had news about Frodo, or maybe even Sarah- no, a letter hadn't come from her in over a year. She said she was off to Gondor, getting to know the land or something. Silly, he thought. She grew up there…  
  
Pippin skipped along, keeping his spirits high. He loved how simple life seemed to be, and how peaceful. He only wished Frodo would get ahold of himself.  
  
***  
  
Frodo Baggins put the finishing touches on the letter, and sealed it up. He stood slowly, not taking his eyes off of the parchment, and walked to the bookcase. He carefully pulled out a thick, aging, leather-bound book. He opened it carefully, treating the contents more gently perhaps than anything else in the smial. Frodo laid the letter inside, closed the cover, and considered the letter sent.  
  
He had no way to get them to her, anyway.  
  
Frodo rubbed his brow and wandered over to the fireplace. Above the mantle there was a picture of Bilbo, and from behind it he took out a letter. Hastily scribbled as it was, he knew ever word by heart, had memorized the curve of every letter.  
  
"Do I sound like a fool,  
  
but I think I felt you moving  
  
Closer to me  
  
Face to the crowd  
  
to hide the fatal cut,  
  
Fight the weight  
  
Feel you lift me up  
  
I can't deny it burns me up inside,  
  
I fan the flames to melt away my pride,  
  
I've only got a second to spare  
  
but all the time in the world to know you're there…  
  
You are shelter from the rain  
  
and the rain to wash me away.  
  
I need you. Goodbye . Sarah."  
  
***  
  
Samwise Gamgee fished deep into the ground, and came up with a rather large weed.  
  
"Aha, there you are, sneaky little thing! But I got all of your roots, didn't I? Heh."  
  
He felt a tap on the shoulder, and shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up to a shadowed figure. They stepped in front of the sun, and Sam was able to make out his father.  
  
"Sam, child, Frodo needs you straight away."  
  
Sam leapt up, horrified that he had been working in his own garden all day instead of looking after his master.  
  
"Oh, is anything wrong?"  
  
The Gaffer smiled roughly. "Frodo didn't say a thing to me, but I can see well enough that he is hurting over leaving Bag End. Now, I know he's only going to Crickhollow, but for who-knows-what reason, you seem to cheer the fellow up. I don't want you mixing with adventures too regularly, Sam, but I reckon I knew Bilbo Baggins well enough before he disappeared to see that an adventure here and there can bring a spring to a step any day. Look after him. And keep yourself out of trouble! Get on, then."  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
Sam scurried off before he had to be told twice. It was true- Frodo was looking paler than usual. 'Samwise Gamgee,' he told himself, 'it won't make Mister Frodo feel any better know his friends have been conspirin' all around him, so don't go letting you tongue slip anywhere it shouldn't be slipping! Ah, well, you'll just have to do your best at cheering him up- little good enough, mind yourself, but no less than you could do…'  
  
  
  
***  
  
Merry marched along, singing a song that he barely remembered as different from the oldest of hobbit songs.  
  
"I hear singing, and there's no one there, I smell blossoms and the trees are bare, all day long I seem to walk on air, I wonder why, I wonder why…"  
  
  
  
***  
  
Pippin stuck his thumbs in his pockets and strolled on his way to Farmer Maggot's. A tune was running through his head, but he could barely remember the words. Here and there a phrase stuck out, until he could sing along with the humming.  
  
"Fallen heart and broken, will there ever be a place where I belong… hmmm hmm ha hmmm…. Hear a sound I recognize... you lift my chin and seek my eyes, a song of love you sing to me, I ache to sing it back to thee..." He slowed thoughtfully, and stopped singing.  
  
"Maybe she was singing about herself. Hmmm."  
  
He shrugged, and went on.  
  
***  
  
Samwise shook his head, and set to work. Against his best arguing, Sam had been sent off to plant flowers in the garden. But, of course, Frodo had promised to eat a nice dinner with the Gaffer and then ready everything to leave for Crickhollow at last- they'd been putting it off long enough.  
  
As he gardened, Sam sang to himself. He's made it all up out of his own head, from a wonderful, exciting story Ryan had told him a very long time ago. Sam missed the twins, though he never mentioned it to the rest of the hobbits. Everyone avoided the subject, because Sarah had just left Frodo so suddenly. Sam couldn't help but be a bit angry with her for hurting Frodo. But Ryan, on the other hand, had never been anything but nice as spring to all of them.  
  
"Eh, how did it go? That's right…  
  
Christine, Christine, with a voice  
  
Pretty as a little lark,  
  
She sang for everyone  
  
With a Tra-la-la and a treedle-dee  
  
Sing-Ho!  
  
But a nasty old phantom  
  
With a face like a goblin  
  
He took her away,  
  
With a ha-ha-ha and a odle-oh!  
  
Sing- no! …"  
  
The song went on.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~ Don't worry, interesting stuff might actually happen in the next chapter.  
  
REVIEW!!! And will someone analyze Macbeth's dagger soliloquy for me? I don't wanna *whine whine whine*.  
  
Chrisami's new and improved reposted end-note: I got a 100% on that analysis. Wahoo. 


	3. Escape

Disclaimer: AWEOSOME COSMIC POWER… itty bitty living space. –The Genie  
  
  
  
Actually, my room IS kinda small… am I being random? Am I wasting time you could be spending reading my story? The answer would be… Yes. Yes, I am.  
  
Am I getting to be annoying? No. No, I'm not.  
  
I don't own: Tolkien stuff, Dune stuff  
  
I do own: most of the plot, my characters  
  
Well, here it is, people! Talk about yah consumah demand *read with a Groucho Marx accent*  
  
I have toiled – TOILED over this! Okay, not really. But Ian has been grumpy lately because his girlfriend dumped him for another muse. One from a Harry Potter fic, too! Heck, I'd be insulted if I were him.  
  
To everyone who hasn't read "A Wizard's Plot". GO READ IT. That is all.  
  
Just kidding. I'm trying to write this so you don't need the prequel to understand it. Tell me if I'm succeeding. REVIEW!!!  
  
1  
  
The year was SR 3018. September 23, by the reckoning of Men.  
  
The years had passed like an unwitting joke played on her for the amusement of misery itself. Of course, Sarah had survived. She kept her sense of humor, witty sarcasm and cunning resourcefulness, though she knew she was much less innocent than that wide-eyed teenage girl who found herself fallen into another world so long ago. A person has much time to think, staring at a black wall hour upon hour.  
  
She thought about Frodo a lot, how he might be missing her. But she didn't miss him so much- the pain had lessened as the years passed. Maybe she was in love with him, but more likely she simply loved him- as a person, as a friend, as the first boy who had just plain loved her.  
  
She thought about Pippin, how cheerful and optimistic he was. The remembrance of his laugh and his jokes had gotten her through many hard times in the wilderness. And, of course, hard times under the whip.  
  
She thought about Sam whenever she was forced to do any work, without mercy and without reward. Sam gave everything he had to Frodo, and then he gave even more. Sarah was inspired by his devotion, kind spirit, and no- nonsense common sense. Sam would have been a good friend to have for the past few years.  
  
But, strangely enough, Sarah found herself thinking about Merry most often. She knew about his father. How Paladin would get drunk and beat his wife until Merry would step in and take it for her. How he had helped Paladin to overcome his overwhelming secret, and how he kept his family together. Merry was truly a good, kind, amazing person. She often wondered what he was doing, now, seventeen years since she'd seen him. Of course, she'd written to both Pippin and Merry, but not to Frodo or Sam. She had to stay away from Frodo, because… it was the last promise she had ever made to Ryan.  
  
The thought of her brother made her spit.  
  
But Sarah had no time to dwell on all that right now.  
  
She watched the sun closely, noticing exactly where the shaft of light reached on the uneven floor. It was time.  
  
She took a deep breath, and whistled a high note, then a low note, then another high one. It was five minutes before the door was eased open, and a dark figure stole quickly to her side.  
  
"My lady," he greeted her.  
  
Sarah smiled quietly. "Good sir," she responded. "You certainly took your sweet time getting here. Where have you been, Alder?"  
  
He fussed with her shackles and rolled his bright green eyes. "I have not the time to argue with you, though I know how much you enjoy it. We have very little time, for the guards here are honorable and watchful in the service of their king." As he said this, the shackled released.  
  
"Yeah," Sarah complained, "honorable and generous with their beatings! That jerk broke my arm, I think!" He moved quickly in concern, holding the forearm gently and prodding it as though it were made of porcelain.  
  
"Are you sure you are all right? You cannot ride if you are injured, Lady Dean. I am not so sure this was a good idea…"  
  
Sarah pulled her arm stiffly away. "I'll ride. Regardless." He continued to stare at her face in open concern, so she walked ahead of him. Sarah was aware of Alder's feelings, but she hardly had time to deal with them now.  
  
As they crouched and sneaked their way out of the dungeons, Alder explained exactly what they were to do.  
  
"I have found you a horse. We will leave at dusk, crossing the plain at night, and hopefully we will reach the other side before daylight. It will be a long night, but I have no doubts as to your capabilities."  
  
Sarah laughed. "You know I'm just lucky to even have a horse! I'll be riding Atriedes, though. He will ride faster because he knows me. But, thank you so much, Alder. I don't know how I would have done any of this without you."  
  
She paused at the edge of an alley, just out of the dimming sunlight. There were few people out this evening- Rohan would be quiet, and ever quieter. Alder put a hand on her uninjured arm, softly turning her toward him. He was much taller than she, but younger. Sarah neither looked nor felt a day older than twenty-five, though she was thirty-two by year. Alder couldn't have been older than twenty-two.  
  
The two had met when Sarah came to Edoras that spring. She had hoped to get acquainted with the local people, perhaps find some allies over the next few months before Gandalf arrived and procured Shadowfax. Sarah desperately wanted to join with Gandalf there, and come back to the fellowship. She wanted to see the hobbits again, and maybe even her brother… but that plan had fallen apart.  
  
She had three weeks of freedom in Rohan. During that time, she met a young man, a foreigner in Edoras, who had no family and was restrained to the city because of the troubles in the surrounding lands. They hit it off, eventually coming to survive off of each other, because neither had a place to stay. They stole what they had to, worked for what they could. Everyone seemed increasingly nervous and suspicious of strangers as the looming darkness grew outside the city.  
  
Sarah trusted Alder no more than anyone else, but he won both her respect and trust when he stopped three men from attacking her after a long day working in a pub. Alder was young, idealistic, and completely innocent. He reminded her of a character in a book she'd read back home. Back in 2002. Alder had his head filled with ideas of chivalry, respect, honor, and decency. He had no idea what the real world was like, and that was why she liked him. Alder didn't give a second thought to taking on three large men to save a damsel in distress.  
  
And so the two unlikely people allied, surviving off of each other as Sarah waited on time.  
  
But then Sarah was arrested. She was brought to King Theoden himself, who demanded to know who she was and why she was there. He was old and sickly looking, and Sarah watched with hatred as an able-bodied man whispered connivingly in his ear. Grima Wormtongue. He was filling that noble king with acidic ideas and failing thoughts.  
  
Then and there, Sarah hardened her face and mouth into silence. She would tell the king nothing- the spy of Saruman discovering her secrets and purposes? Ha!  
  
And so Sarah had spent the past few months pretending to barely survive the dungeons. Her guard, 'Heaven', was the only one who realized she was not a weak, piteous young stranger, and so he was the only one who gave her no mercy. Of course, she had to give him credit. Everyone else fell for the 'poor me' act.  
  
She had plotted and planned with Alder, but he wasn't able to get her out of the prison before Gandalf arrived and left with fire and fury on the back of Shadowfax. In fact, he had left earlier that day. So, Sarah's hope was infuriatingly just out of reach.  
  
But Sarah Dean did not give up so easily. She'd had the presence of mind to pick out her own horse as soon as she arrived, and she spent several days getting him to trust her. Another week to ride him, and she named the brilliant black stallion Atriedes. Her father's name was Paul. She felt it was fitting.  
  
And Alder was to come with her as she headed relentlessly toward Rivendell. Sure, it was far, but she had until October 25- the Council of Elrond. A little over two months. Everything was reasonably thought-out. Just one problem- what was she going to do about the young man who was completely enamored of her?  
  
Here, in the mounting dusk, Sarah very consciously realized that he intended to kiss her before they set off. Sarah had no interest in the young man whatsoever- he was like a brother to her.  
  
A brother who wouldn't go insane and leave me alone for some stupid elf, Sarah though bitterly. But she shook the thoughts out of her head as Alder leaned inexpertly closer.  
  
Crud… She cleared her throat loudly, and he paused questioningly.  
  
"Uh, there's no one looking. We should go now. O-okay?" Sarah backed up uncomfortably, then sprinted off when she was sure he'd follow. He had nowhere else to go, and she couldn't refuse to let him come along. Plus, what was wrong with having a little protection from this wild world? Ever since she and Ryan had parted ways, Sarah had felt decidedly alone… unsafe… vulnerable.  
  
Outside the walls of the city, Alder had his horse waiting. Sarah only had to call to Atriedes, and he came from nearby. He was a wild horse, but not around her. She didn't fool herself into thinking he was anywhere near the calibre of great Shadowfax, but he would carry her well. The feeling of his large, rock-hard black body moving steadily beneath her was comforting.  
  
They had food, provisions, and the cover of night to aid them as the two strangers, one hailing from Dale, one hailing from Colorado, made their way out of Rohan and on to the last Homely House.  
  
Sarah felt a tingle of excitement in her heart. After years and years of waiting, toiling, preparing, she could finally finish all of this. Maybe even go home.  
  
"I miss the Chapel Hills Mall," she whispered into the darkness.  
  
"What?" Alder hissed. They were not yet out of harm's way.  
  
"Nothing. Let's keep moving."  
  
~~~ Sheesh, SOMEBODY gets irritable when I don't post for a while! *coughYanlicacough* Well, I have one thing to say to you… THANKS! I like it that you actually are waiting for me to post. All of you are SO great! Heck, this chapter was hard to write. I have lots more to write, too. This is only the beginning…  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!! 


	4. Ryan

Disclaimer: I don't own this stuff! Leave me alone.  
  
Ian: She's grumpy today. I'd leave her alone if I were you.  
  
A/N: Take his advice. I have writer's block. But you know what? Nothing kills writer's block like an essay due first period tomorrow that I haven't started yet and I really want to procrastinate on.  
  
  
  
2  
  
"Odd. Very, very odd."  
  
He watched, or rather, looked in the direction, of the elf mounting the horse. Living in Rivendell was a waking dream; he found that he could think for hours, forget what was going on around him. But he did recognize what was happening right now, in the courtyard below his balcony, because he knew it was relevant. His thoughts, however, were far off. On the simplest of things, strangely enough.  
  
"Hello. Goodbye. Today is the ninth of October." He shook his head, hummed a little bit, trying to concentrate. He tried again.  
  
"Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously. Sally sells seashells down by the seashore." Nope. "I can't do it." Even the words sounded silly to hear them, mostly because they sounded so… normal.  
  
Ryan Dean could not remember how do speak with an American accent.  
  
He had to laugh, even thinking about it. Living around elves, and only elves, for the past nine years had really affected him. He recognized that he didn't speak quite like the other elves, but he definitely didn't speak like a Coloradan anymore.  
  
He spoke fluent elvish, both Sindarin and Quenyan, though it had taken him quite a while. He didn't really use English or Westron anymore; there was no need. But Ryan had a secret fear that he would begin to forget his first language, so he often recited lines from old plays, sang, and wrote in English. Narindrel discouraged this, but Ryan kept at it. She said it made him stand out. Ryan would only smile, kiss his wife on the cheek, and continue.  
  
Of course, thinking about anything from his former life inevitably reminded him of his sister.  
  
"Sarah…" Ryan thought out loud, as the elf below took hold of the horse and confidently sped off. "Today is October ninth. Come on, Sarah. Please…"  
  
She had to make it- she had to get to Rivendell by the twenty-fifth. The Council of Elrond, she had to know about it! She wouldn't stay away from something so important just because of… would she?  
  
He blinked, the only sign of surfacing bitterness. She was so stubborn- so demanding- so- so- SARAH! He remembered the last time he saw his sister, nine years ago. Like it were yesterday.  
  
***  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
  
And that was it. After eight years of living in Bree, Ryan had finally consented to Narin's begging. He would go to Rivendell and marry the elf.  
  
There, in the tiny room they had called home while in Bree, Ryan finally told her. The fire had been blazing brightly, illuminating her weathered face. Many things had happened over the past years, but they had always been together. Now, Sarah's voice was so pained, so pitiful, so foreboding. It almost broke Ryan's heart to hear her speak that way, but it wasn't enough.  
  
Ryan told her he loved Narindrel. Sarah already knew that, but she never realized how much he loved the elf. They were older now, romantic fancies had given way to realistic hopes. Ryan wanted to marry his love, live in Rivendell with the elves, and make the best of their time before the War of the Ring was upon them.  
  
Sarah disagreed.  
  
Ryan though she was being irrational, emotional, flying off the handle. Jumping to conclusions, to stubborn to admit she might be wrong. Sarah said that Narin was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.  
  
He told her that Narin was the most important thing in life to him. He told her that he loved Narin more than life itself, and that she was the most important thing to him in the world. But the worst thing he said, the thing that bore into his mind and forced ever-renewing guilt, was the thing to push her over the edge.  
  
"You are just like our mother."  
  
Sarah turned white. The look on her face was enough to make steel melt. She hated their mother with more passion than Ryan had ever known anyone to hate. Now, he realized, she knew how serious he was. She knew it was over- their companionship. It was all over.  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Loaded words. No, you're not leaving. No, you can't be choosing her over me. No, you can't be going to Rivendell. No, I am nothing like our mother. No, I am not going with you.  
  
Yes, I am leaving. Yes, I choose my love over my sister. Yes, you are like our mother. But, no, you are not going with me.  
  
They both knew Sarah would never settle in Rivendell. She might have, true, if not for Narin. The two had grown to dislike, then hate each other as the years went by. Sarah was always suspicious of the elf, after the warning she'd gotten from her future self the night of Bilbo's eleventy- first birthday. And Narin always though Sarah was too controlling, too close to her brother. Narin wanted Ryan all to herself.  
  
And with Ryan kicking and screaming for Sarah to let go, she finally did.  
  
And he hadn't seen her since.  
  
***  
  
"Well, I really hope you make it back here," Ryan said in elvish. He tried to say it in English, but it was too hard. His eyes misted, and he wondered for nary the first time whether he'd made the right decision.  
  
"It wasn't true, idiot. Why did you tell her that?" Narin was his love, but only a love. She was not the most important thing in life to him. And Sarah wasn't like his mother at all- not selfish, not cunning, not deceitful.  
  
She was noble, and loyal, and independent, and bold, and brave, and amazing.  
  
"Ryaden." He heard a voice from beyond the balcony, and Narin came to him. She called him by the special name she had given him, his pet name. She was the only one who addressed him this way.  
  
He turned and clasped her hand in his. "Glorfindel has gone. Frodo should be here in less than two weeks. We have little time."  
  
"But all the time in the world, dear one! For I love you now, and so I love you always. And we shall always be at peace."  
  
She laid her head gently on his shoulder, and Ryan closed his eyes.  
  
Outside, a cold wind suddenly rustled through the trees. Leaves swirled a hazarded dance across their forest bed, while tiny pebbles consented to clamber down the many steps in disarray. For a moment, maybe, it seemed as though a cloud covered bright Rivendell, and shadows seemed to overtake the light, so that all was darkness. But Ryan opened his eyes, and the shadow faded.  
  
He couldn't ignore the creeping terror in the back of his mind. His lips formed words, though he spoke not for fear of Narin noticing.  
  
Sarah, please…  
  
  
  
~~~ There, darnit, I posted. Happy?  
  
I hope that turned out right. I'm in an analytical mood right now. 


	5. Reality

Disclaimer: Ah one, ah two, ah one, two three four!  
  
Gimme a break, gimme a break,  
  
break me off a piece of that multi-million dollar enterprise!  
  
No? Oh well.  
  
No Tolkien ownership for me. But I own other stuff! Like, a dog, for example!  
  
A/N: I'm trying to churn these out faster. I DO have four other stories to write, ya know.  
  
Here's where everything from "A Wizard's Plot" is explained, for those of you who haven't read it. I tried to summarize! Don't hurt me if its too complicated!  
  
PS: I re-worked this chapter after the wonderful advice of my dear friend, Cait. Thanks! I swear I'll return your Amazing Skirt someday!  
  
3  
  
Sarah flicked a shaving into the fire. Whittling calmed her down, not that the droning repetitiveness of riding across bare land for weeks on end wasn't calming enough. It wasn't the journey that troubled her- it was the destination. And night was not the most soothing time to think of such things.  
  
"You know what, Alder? I really do miss my brother. You'd like him- he's really nice if you give him a chance. Just a little shy. He's really smart, too, and he can play the piano better than anyone I know. What else can he do? Hmmm, let's see… he can sing, and sort of act, and basically he's just an all-around nice guy. Of course, like every other nice guy in the universe, he was cursed with being an idiot." She laughed quietly to herself, but Alder said nothing.  
  
The fire crackled, and after a long pause, Sarah went on. "He's an idiot, well, about honor and family and all of that. That's what happened, I guess. He had to go and fall in love, so he felt responsible for this elf Narin, and he had to go off and marry her. No, I know what you're thinking. She wasn't pregnant. Ryan is WAY too chivalrous to get himself into that kind of situation. He was just doing what good guys do- taking care of her. But I don't like her a bit, and there was no way I was moving to Rivendell. Elves don't really like me- I'm too crude. I just don't belong there."  
  
She spit reflexively into the dirt. "So we parted ways. When we get to Rivendell, Alder, it'll be the first time I've seen him in almost a decade. Yeah, I know, that's a long time. I really wish we'd have stayed together. I can think of more than one time when I said, with my back against a wall, I-wish-Ryan-were-here."  
  
A shape was forming in the wood- Sarah wasn't really trying carve anything; she just went with the grains and the feel of the wood. "Do you want to know about Ryan and I? Okay, I'll tell you." She continued without even taking a breath. "Ryan and I are from this place called America, you've probably never heard of it. Heh. Well, we were walking to Ryan's car one day after rehearsal- we're both actors, but you don't know what that is either- and this hobbit named Pippin appeared to us. No, I'm not crazy, and we weren't seeing things. Pippin gave us two warnings- first, I must never leave Frodo, and second, Ryan must protect me. Yeah, I know, see how that worked out? We did exactly what we shouldn't have done."  
  
She rubbed her eyebrow with the back of her hand, and went on. "Then out of the blue, we got transported here. Really! It's true! I fell into Aragorn's stuff- you don't know who he is, but you will, trust me- and Ryan fell almost on top of Samwise Gamgee, who's a hobbit like Pippin. After a while (and, I admit, a lot of help from Gandalf and Aragorn) we figured out that this little ring here-" she held up the hand holding the knife, so that the ring gleamed in the light of the fire. "-was the cause of all the trouble. Its called the 'Phenilring', and Saruman the White created it out of the Phenilstone, which yep you guessed it, contains the power of the soul of the earth. Very, very powerful stuff going on here. So the ring has the power to control time, or at least those who wield it do. That ended up being my brother and I."  
  
She sighed, remembering. "Its complicated, but I'll try to hash it out for you. This is how things went: Gandalf saw a vision of the future in which my brother and I, through the Phenilring, were involved in the triumph of evil in Middle-Earth. Scary, eh? So he took the Phenilstone and gave it to Saruman, who happens to be secretly evil. Talk about irony. Saruman created the Phenilring by transferring the power of the Phenilstone to an ordinary ring after the fall of Sauron. But he was whipped by Gandalf and couldn't wield it. So the ring ended up in the hands of the King- Aragorn! That's right, did you guess?"  
  
The wood in her hands felt smooth. She turned over the block and started on a different angle. "Aragorn used the ring to go to the future, my time. Sort of. He chose to start as a child, born of a woman in the future. He grew up and wrote about the War of the Ring and all about hobbits in these books called The Lord of the Rings, and the Silmarillion, and the Hobbit, and a bunch of other ones. He did this 'cause he knew that the ring would be passed down from his line, and he wanted his descendants to know what they were getting into with the ring. Eventually, according to legend, the children of Númenor were supposed to the ones involved in this whole thing. And Ryan and I are Aragorn's- or, Tolkien's, as his 20th century name marked him, grandchildren. See how it all fits?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Well, not everything fits. See, this-" she made a face, "-elf, Narin, is somehow connected to the Phenilring. Everywhere- that is, 'everytime' it goes, Narin goes. So she fell in love with Ryan and sucked him away from me, the nasty little- oh, sorry. I get carried away sometimes."  
  
Flick, flick, flick, more shavings into the fire. "So we have to, somehow, figure out how to stop all this from happening. I did get two clues from the future, but I have yet to figure out either of them. First, I did once travel to the future, and I'm pretty sure I saw what was going to happen to all of us. But, darnit, since the Phenilring matches every act of evil with an equal act of good (how annoying, right?), it was wiped from my memory. I have flashes in my mind, sort of pictures of what I saw, but I can't make out their connection or meaning. Its terribly irritating.  
  
"Secondly, my future self came and visited me right before I left Hobbiton, where the Hobbits live. She- well, I- tried to tell me, or myself, whatever- Um, okay. I tried to tell myself how to resolve everything, but I died first. Not me, the future me. I know, confusing. Just consider yourself lucky you're not me, eh?" She laughed and nudged him gently.  
  
"So I am alone, besides you, Alder, and I have no idea what to do about the ring or the stone or evil Saruman or anything. And the quest has already started! Frodo (that's another hobbit) will be in Rivendell by the time we get there! I'm pretty much stumped."  
  
Sarah looked at what had come of her block of wood. She ran her fingers through the grooves, breathing in and out once, before she could look back at the fire. It was a crude human figure. But, strangely enough, Sarah had carved it without hands.  
  
"Hmm. I didn't even notice."  
  
An owl hooted, and snapped her out of it. "Well, my watch is almost up, buster. I'm going to wake you up now, and let's hope you aren't too grumpy. I'm tired, and you've been sleeping for four hours!"  
  
She shook Alder gently, and he sleepily opened his eyes. "Ah, oh, is it my watch?"  
  
"Yes. I'd like some sleep. I don't think anything will happen tonight."  
  
"All right, Lady Sarah. Sleep well."  
  
Sarah nodded, and was quickly dreaming, regardless of the lack of pillow, blanket, or pajamas that she had enjoyed so much back home- in Colorado. Sarah hadn't slept in pajamas in seventeen years.  
  
Alder sat there quietly for a moment, making sure she was asleep. When her breathing became deep and regular, Alder nodded to himself. "You are the strangest of things that I have met on all my travels, Sarah Dean. I stand by my word, and I swore to protect you. Now that I know you are descended of a Ranger, one of my brethren in fact, I double my vow. You see, Strider told me to find a woman like you, watch after her. I believe you are the woman I have been searching for. But, of course, wiser men that I have been fooled by dark ways, so I will fast stay silent. Let us pray that you rest well, that we make good time, and that I am better at recognizing when one is asleep than you are."  
  
~~~ That was a short chapter. On to Rivendell!!!  
  
PS: I like reviews. They're nice. Hint hint. 


	6. Reunions

Disclaimer: Wanna be Your hands, I wanna be Your feet, I'll go where you send me, go where you send me… -Audio Adrenaline  
  
I own my inspirations. I own my ideas. Christ owns me.  
  
I DON'T OWN: Lady Macbeth, Othello, or any other Shakespearean character or plot(although he didn't exactly come up with original ideas, if ya know what I'm talkin' about, can we say formula-writing? heh heh); Dave Barry material, Charlotte Perkins Gilman stuff, or Lewis Carrol stuff;  
  
A/N: I have the worst writer's block in the history of long, horrible cases of writer's block. Thus, my writing may get a little weird here. Enjoy the thinly veiled references to speech competition! I've acted every one of those pieces except Jabberwocky. That one belongs to Lauren.  
  
PS: Doesn't it bug you when the elven gowns that OC's dress in always fit perfectly and show off their womanly attributes? Blech.  
  
4  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Sarah… Sarah? What are you doing?"  
  
Still, nothing.  
  
Then he heard humming. A slow, creepy rhythm, methodical and tuneless. Then he heard words.  
  
"I've got out at last… hmmmm… in spite of you and Jane… and I've pulled off most of the paper, so you can't put me back! Yeah, that's it."  
  
Alder frowned and finally stood, accepting that she was going to make him come and actually find her. He followed the open doors, and she kept taking so he knew he was getting closer. Each elven room was more ethereal than the last, every object and piece of furniture seemingly designed for the sole purpose of bringing peace and rest to those present. Light penetrated every nook and cranny, due to the broad windows and cheerful day. But as he followed the rooms inward, things seemed to grow more shadowed. Alder followed her voice.  
  
"Let's see, sophomore year… Contrary to what many women believe, its easy to develop a long-term, intimate, and mutually fulfilling relationship with a guy. Of course this 'guy' has to be a Labrador retriever. Heh."  
  
Alder could tell she was reciting, but he had no idea what.  
  
When they arrived at Rivendell, an elf named Narindrel had met them and recognized Sarah immediately. In this last homely house, Alder could be sure finally that Sarah was the woman she claimed to be. Even if she'd only claimed it in his sleep. Now, after two days, Alder had made sure he never left her side.  
  
In fact, after Sarah found out he was a Ranger, he felt that maybe she kept close to him as well. No matter how kind and good the elves were, both Alder and Sarah felt very… below them. They were strangers, welcome but wary.  
  
After two days in Rivendell, Alder had not spent an hour away from the sight of this woman.  
  
"'Twas brillig- oh, heavens. I miss you all so much… 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble, in the wabe…"  
  
Finally, Alder came upon the young woman in a room deep inside. She was trailing her fingers along the wall, walking steadily with her head held high.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked one last time.  
  
She looked at him, grinning wistfully. "I'm just remembering stories… from my land. Many memories… Oh, you mean what am I actually DOING? I'm mapping out Rivendell in my mind. What you do is you trace the walls, going from room to room, and eventually you should get back to where you started, after you've gone through the entire place. Its fun, if you have a lot of spare time and you really want to remember something."  
  
Alder smiled. "You look very different, Lady Sarah, almost as though you belong here."  
  
Sarah twitched slightly, letting him know he was supposed to follow her since she certainly wasn't going to stop. "You do not lie very well, Alder! We both know I much prefer and belong in the rugged wilderness. Dresses, well, they don't suit me."  
  
She was dressed uncomfortably in a light, pastel green gown, in the fashion of an elven guest of honor. Her hair was clean and braided, her skin was perfumed, and the dress was supposed to be a special gift. The elves beamed whenever they saw her wearing it (even though she'd been forced to neatly rip off one of the sleeves to accommodate her broken, bandaged arm). However, since Sarah was neither as lithe nor as tall as a normal elf, she felt extremely mismatched. Apparently, female elves weren't supposed to have any muscles at all- they were skinny as string. Or spaghetti. Or twigs. Or-  
  
"Sarah…" Alder began, interrupting her thoughts. He'd taken to walking next to her, silently, with his hands behind his back. "Have you seen your brother yet?"  
  
She slowed, but didn't even turn her head. "That's a great question. That is a really great, great question. And do you know what the answer is? Huh? The million-dollar-who-wants-to-save-Middle-Earth answer? He doesn't want to see me." She lowered her head slightly, and Alder didn't dare look at her. He was flabbergasted.  
  
"How could he possibly not want to see you? You are his sister! You have been separated for almost ten years! I cannot believe this!"  
  
She laughed. "I reacted kind of the same way. But, no. Narin told me straight off, the minute we got here. Ryan is not feeling well, he's worried, I'm distressing him, and he doesn't want to deal with me." She said it lightly, but he saw right through that. Sarah was close to tears.  
  
He put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "Listen to me." He made sure she was looking straight into his eyes, so she could see his sincerity. Alder spoke with intensity, trying only to stem the swell of emotion welling up inside of him.  
  
"You are brilliant. You are resourceful and intelligent and kind and beautiful. You surely will never lack for wit! Your soul is strong and good, and the way this hurts you brings me such regret it takes my breath away! Ryan is his own man, and you are Sarah. And one thing that you may hold on to, years passing like the frost melts in spring, whether your brother wants to see you ever again or not: you are loved. Heartily and with a whole heart." His face was wide and hopeful- just waiting for her to return the sentiment.  
  
Frankly, Sarah didn't have the stomach to deal with all of this sappy emotion. But she also didn't have the heart to crush him. Darnit. She never had to deal with this in high school- guys enjoyed telling her that they 'would have' asked her out, but she was 'such a good friend'! So this was completely new to Sarah, and she didn't really know how to handle it.  
  
Sarah put a consoling hand over his, hoping to soften the blow she was about to deal, when she heard a pattering of feet in the hallway. Both turned simultaneously, and saw a rather short figure disappear from the doorway.  
  
Sarah bolted, and poked her head out just as someone turned the corner. "Hey- wait!" she cried. Elves normally didn't run like that. Sarah had an inkling that she knew who it might be…  
  
The mysterious person hesitantly walked back into her line of view. She gasped, then shrieked.  
  
"MERRY!" A broad grin replaced his uncertain demeanor in a flash. They ran at each other, and Sarah fairly leapt into his arms.  
  
It was one of those moments in life- where it seems like, for just a second, holding onto another person is the most important thing in the world. Sarah wrapped her arms around him and Merry dug his fingers into her back.  
  
Alder had to clear his throat to break the moment.  
  
Merry pulled back and searched her face in amazement. "I thought I heard your voice- and here you are! I can't believe it! Sarah, oh-"  
  
She bit her lip and shook her head. "It has been much too long, Meriadoc Brandybuck! Tell me you're real. Tell me its really you, right here, in front of me! Because I'm not sure if I can really believe it. Its almost too good, too wonderful to be true! Grace of Valar…"  
  
His eyes welled up with tears, and he held her head in his hands, at the base of the neck.  
  
He said, "Pippin mentioned that we might find you here, but frankly I was trying to find a storage room to raid! How lucky that I found you instead, though I don't think I can eat you."  
  
But he thought: I couldn't be more real if the soaring in my heart was the only power to breathe life into the world.  
  
Sarah grinned until her face hurt. Then, she found her head again. "Oh! Merry, this is Alder! Alder helped me get here, and he's been protecting me. Alder, Meriadoc Brandybuck is a hobbit I've known for a very, very long time." She beamed at the man standing behind her.  
  
Alder had been hanging back, feeling very out of place during this joyful reunion. He noticed that as soon as Sarah mentioned him, the hobbit looked between the two and the joy in his eyes faded just slightly, and returned to uncertainty. Sarah didn't notice.  
  
"I am honored to meet you, friend of Sarah. I'm sure we'll be getting to know each other better." He tipped his head. Then he grinned conspiratorially. "I think the elves are keeping their food in a storage room on the other side of the river, young Brandybuck, if you'd care to investigate."  
  
Merry laughed just a little too cheerfully. "Oh, and miss the reunion between Sarah and the rest of the hobbits? Never!" With that, he bellowed with all his might, "PIPPIN! OI! PIP!"  
  
Less than five seconds later, there was a thunderous pattering of feet on bare wood. A living ball of energy rounded the corner, paused verily a second, then threw itself at Sarah with all its might.  
  
She laughed her head off as he bowled her over, then stiffened suddenly with a loud "OW."  
  
Everyone froze as she lifted her arm gingerly. Pippin clapped a hand over his mouth and crawled off of her. "This seems to be a tradition for us, Sarah! We meet, and you hurt yourself!"  
  
Sarah laughed weakly, remembering how she sprained her ankle at her first meeting with Merry and Pippin. "No, no, honey, I broke my arm over a month ago! Don't worry- its worth it to see you! Actually, I should say, to experience you!"  
  
They all relaxed, happy that Sarah wasn't more injured. "Okay, now you have to tell me: where are Sam and Frodo?" She hoped she sounded cheerful enough- she wasn't suppose to know that Frodo had been stabbed at Weathertop.  
  
Merry scratched his eyebrow and glanced at Pippin. "We ran into a little bit of adventure on our way here. Frodo is recovering wonderfully, though! Sam won't tear himself from Frodo's side."  
  
Pippin bounced around, teeming with energy. "I offered him mushrooms, he wouldn't budge. I offered him potatoes, he only laughed at me! I offered him a nice, hot bath (something I've needed for quite a while), and he only told me that he didn't think I could get him clean enough!" Pippin stroked his chin quixotically, giving everyone a comical image.  
  
"Well," said Sarah, scrambling to her feet (elven dresses aren't exactly made for tumbling), "I'd like to at least find Gandalf. Do you think I could do that? That is, after we've eaten and talked for hours, of course!"  
  
She joined hands with a hobbit on either side, and they sailed down the corridor with Alder right by their side.  
  
"Gandalf has been very cheerful lately, talking about death and doom and evil things! He's very wonderful to be around, I'm sure you'll enjoy him!" Pippin giggled.  
  
Nothing had really changed, but in Sarah's mind's eye, the whole world shone.  
  
~~~Ihavewriter'sblockIhavewriter'sblockIhavewriter'sblockIhavewriter'sblock.  
  
Ian: Don't blame me. I don't know what to do for her. I think she's been writing too many different plots- she's spread to thinly! And finals are coming up… 


	7. Deception

Disclaimer: You know what? I owe a lot to a lot of people. I owe Caitlin much editing (and life) advice. I owe Scott the confidence from some of the best reviews I've ever received. I owe Wistful Gypsy a loving thanks to a sister in Christ. I owe Yanlica inspiration from very faithful reviewing. I owe Mija five years of a best friend. Sister. I owe Micki lots of advice, accountability, and support. I owe my parents encouragement, brilliance, perseverance, and my stubborn attitude. I owe everyone I forgot a big apology.  
  
I owe Jesus Christ my salvation.  
  
And of course, I owe Tolkien a big "Yoda-yoda-yoda" for coming up with Middle-Earth and all of its intricacies.  
  
PS: Ashley gets muse-credit for this chapter! Roy-hoo! *Avs… sob…but Chris Drury still rock, HELLOOO can we say three-on-one killer shot?*  
  
  
  
A/N: Bla bla bla. I'm cutting down to three stories, maybe only two, because its just too hard to be faithful and write constantly for all four of them. If only there were thirty or so hours in a day…  
  
This chapter is short because I wanted to post and I have no time. Prom is tonight! Yay!  
  
5  
  
Ryan woke to the feeling of a light kiss on the lips. He managed a smile as he shifted groggily up onto one elbow. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked in elvish.  
  
Narin sat softly on the edge of the bed. "Two days, my Lord-"  
  
"You know, I wish you wouldn't call me that. You can call me 'dear', or 'sweetie', or 'idiot', or whatever you want to call me, but not 'my Lord'. I hate that," he said grumpily. The he rubbed his eyes, slid his feet onto the floor, and his head cleared. He reached a hand out to his wife. "Oh, love, don't listen to me! I didn't mean any of that. I'm just sleepy, that's all. I'm feeling better, though!"  
  
Narin smiled simply. "All that I hope for is your health's return. And, Ryan, I must thank you again. You were always so willing to return with me to the customs and ways of the elves." She let him hug her gently.  
  
Ryan had gradually fallen into acting like an elf over the past nine years, through Narin's insistence. He walked like an elf, spoke elvish instinctively, and could generally blend in with the other residents here in Rivendell. He enjoyed the structure and peace of daily life, but in the back of his mind lingered doubts and regrets. If only, he would think more than once a day, if only I had stayed with Sarah.  
  
He longed for his sister with an ache that wouldn't go away. Her ability to read his mind, her smart common sense, her sharp wit, everything about her seemed like a part of him that had gone missing. The worst part was, he hadn't realized how much of him she made up, until she was gone.  
  
That's what he had thought it was at first- just a day that he was missing Sarah more than usual. But after a week, the ache hadn't gone away- it had grown. Then it spread to his limbs, and turned into a burning. Ryan fell to a fever three days later, then chills, then two days of coma- like sleep.  
  
Narin had been by his side the entire time, she told him. And most importantly, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Nothing.  
  
Ryan attributed it to his sickness, but wasn't it about time for Gandalf, then Frodo and the other hobbits, to show up? Narin only told him no- it was at least another month. She made sure he stayed in bed, and only bed.  
  
"I had so many dreams, Narindrel. While I was asleep, I mean," Ryan tried to stand, but she pushed him back, her hands cold on his bare, pale chest. It was obvious he'd been sick for weeks.  
  
"No, no, no. You must stay in bed. You may tell me about your dreams while I make you tea. I'll use the leaf you like, all right?"  
  
Ryan gave up and threw an arm over his eyes, stretching out across the covers. He heard Narin walk across the room, so he told her.  
  
"I dreamed all sorts of things- about America, about the Shire, about Sarah. But you know what the strangest thing was? I saw Amanda over and over and over again. She's our older sister. So strange, because I haven't given a second thought to Amanda in weeks, maybe months. Knowing she's safe, back in my time, I guess I simply filed her away under 'Fond Memories'. Isn't that strange?"  
  
"Mmmm, yes," Narin said consolingly. She wasn't really listening.  
  
Narin concentrated more on what she was doing- heated water, several mint-ish leaves, and a drop of honey in a silver cup. She mixed it carefully, making sure it was just the way Ryan liked it. Then Narin turned casually, eyeing her husband. He still took her breath away- not only handsome in form and smile, but also kind and innocent. She was doing it all for him.  
  
Pulling out a tiny pouch from a leafed belt around her waist, Narin quickly leaned over the steaming cup. She slid the pouch open and shook a pinch of silvery-white powder into the tea. It dissolved in a quick hiss.  
  
"-then I saw a huge figure, taking up all of my vision. It was archaic, simple, without defined features, though I could tell it was a human form. But it had no hands! Arms, just not hands."  
  
"Strange, Ryan. Yes," she said, not really listening. "Now drink your tea."  
  
Ryan held out a hand, and took it thankfully.  
  
~ I'm itching to explain all the symbolism- a GREAT BIG PLOT TWIST IS COMING SOOOOOON! Review, okay? Thanks! 


	8. Realization

Disclaimer: No owny meee: Hemingway stuff, Jars of Clay music, my history teacher, or any LotR connected stuff.  
  
A/N: After a long, drawn-out argument with myself, which ended with the phrase "You knew what you were going to do all along, why are you even bothering with this?", I am keeping 'Radan and Truly Madly Deeply. The other ones I'm putting on hiatus. Okay?  
  
PS: Everything that the characters are thinking is in single quotes. Okay? It was getting a little confusing, even for the author. Uh, me. Ahem.  
  
  
  
6  
  
Ryan was staying in bed because he had promised. Otherwise, he would have been out of there faster than you could say "Where's my sister?"  
  
But he was still sick, though not so feverish now. Ryan had a bit of a stomachache earlier, so he hadn't drunk or eaten anything, and it seemed to be agreeing with him. His head was already clearer, and he didn't have a pounding headache. He at least felt well enough to sing, whereas before it had been like screws boring into his brain.  
  
He lay on top of the covers of their huge bed, nearly naked because of the fever. No one had visited him-besides Narin, of course- for the past month or so. Maybe they were afraid of the sickness.  
  
In any case, he expected to be alone. So he sang in English, an old song. He waved his right hand to the tune of the imaginary acoustic guitar in his head, and the left to the base guitar. Funny things to remember, in such a world. Only the ceiling received his words.  
  
"Fare thee well,  
  
Trade in all our words for tea and sympathy,  
  
Wonder why we try for things can never be  
  
Play our heart's lament,  
  
Like an unrehearsed symphony  
  
Not intend to leave this castle full of empty rooms  
  
Our love the captive in the tower  
  
never rescued  
  
And all our victory songs  
  
Seem to be playing out of tune.  
  
'Cause its not the way  
  
that it has to be  
  
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy  
  
And its not the way that it has to be  
  
Fare thee well,  
  
your words the bag of leaves that fill my head.  
  
And I can taste the bitterness,  
  
but call the waitress instead,  
  
'cause she hold the answer.  
  
Smiles and asks,  
  
"One teaspoon or two?"  
  
'Cause its not the way  
  
that it has to be  
  
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy  
  
And its not the way that it has to be  
  
We can work it out…  
  
Why did it have to be that way?" he asked the ceiling, because it was the only thing that he was sure would listen. "Its true, too. I CAN taste the bitterness. And we could have worked it out. She's just so darn stubborn. And all our victory songs…" he paused, then finished the line shakily, singing almost at a whisper. "Seem to be playing out of tune."  
  
"How did everything turn out this way?"  
  
Unfortunately, the ceiling had no consoling words for him.  
  
***  
  
Scritch, scratch. Scritch scratch. Her upper thigh itched, but she couldn't reach the spot because she was crammed uncomfortably into the space between the top of the wall and the ceiling. Unfortunately, the Council of Elrond was taking place, right at that moment, in the room below. The elvish architecture left an eighteen-inch gap between the wall and the sloping, intricate ceiling.  
  
Sarah had discovered this after about an hour of walking through Rivendell. She'd been wondering how she was going to listen in on the council- she certainly wasn't invited, because no one there knew what she had to do with anything. Elrond had been busy working on Frodo from the moment he arrived, Aragorn was in deep counsel with some of the elf-lords, and Sarah had shut her mouth when she found out Ryan didn't want to see her. Something rotten was in Denmark, she figured. And it sure wasn't Hamlet.  
  
The room where the council was to be held, empty only hours ago, was a gorgeous place. Among all the colorful, intricate artwork and architecture, one thing had caught her eye as she searched for possibilities: tracing around the upper rim of the room, a thin space let light in from the outside. She had almost given up on climbing up and listening through here, because of course she would block out light and someone would notice, but she gave it a last stab and looked at the rim from the outside. And of course, the gap lead to a ledge tracing the entire outside of the building, where no light was let in but a thin space still remained. It was about fifteen feet up, hidden from sight and light, and she could simply slide in there, pressed against the outer wall of the next room, and listen.  
  
She'd climbed up there and shoved herself on the ledge just before they rang a very loud, reverberating bell announcing the council.  
  
"For you," she had whispered mock-ominously. "The bell tolls for YOU, Sarah, muahahahaha!" The irony was not lost on her- here, where the most noble and prestigious men of the age met and discussed the fate of the world, the holder of the power of the soul of the earth was crammed into a tiny space, eavesdropping. Ridiculous.  
  
But it served her purpose- find out if anything had changed from the normal timeline, and possibly even see if Ryan was attending.  
  
So here she was, itching like crazy, messing up her elvish gown as she wriggled to reach the itch, and listening while the council continued.  
  
It was amazing how accurately Aragorn had recounted the dialogue in the books- very few things were different. Everything was so intense, so serious. They were all respectful and alert, even thought Sarah noticed the elves and dwarves glaring at each other every once in a while. Most of the things discussed had little to do with the Ring at first. She had to listen to a lot of boring stuff, that was for sure. Sarah tried to tell herself, 'It's like a History lesson in Middle-Earth! Take that, Mr. Clark!'  
  
The hours that everyone talked of irrelevant things gave Sarah's opportunistic mind a chance to wander. She tried to organize everything in her head.  
  
'Okay, Frodo and Sam are right down there, with Gandalf bless his soul, and most of the fellowship.  
  
'Legolas is just sitting there silently, but it looks like he's going to explode.' Sarah peered intently at the elf, knowing it was him because he was dressed differently than most other elves, and he acted just as Aragorn had described. She caught a full view of his face, and saw his furrowed brow and clenched jaw as he listened to Glóin speak. It seemed so familiar…  
  
An image flashed in her mind- just barely for a second. It was Legolas, frozen in motion, the same furrowed brow and clenched jaw… but fear in his eyes. But, Sarah reminded herself, 'You've never seen Legolas before now.'  
  
Just another one of her confusing visions.  
  
There was Gimli, too, sitting with the dwarves. He was just like she had imagined him, along with the rest of the dwarves. Her heart jumped when she saw his head turn, but Sarah didn't know why. It just made her afraid, all of a sudden. Why? What was it about Gimli turning his head?  
  
She shook the feeling off, and searched out Boromir. Everyone was giving him stolen glances, probably wondering who the heck he was. Sarah was almost proud just to see him, knowing how strong and noble he was. Sure, a bit prideful and wary, but he only wanted the best for his people. It was such a tragedy that he would soon fall to the power of the One Ring.  
  
There was Aragorn, as well. Sitting near an elf who must have been Arwen- shockingly beautiful in an ethereal sense, Sarah was actually turned off by her. Sarah had never liked that elf. Or maybe it was just that all female elves reminded her of Narin.  
  
Aragorn looked not a second older than the last time she had seen him- but maybe more grim. Sarah realized all at once that he was almost ninety years old here, but he looked and acted thirty. And she was over thirty, and she looked twenty.  
  
'Ooooooh,' she thought, mentally smacking herself on the head for not realizing the connection earlier. 'Of course. We're Númenorean.'  
  
Frodo was out of her line of sight, as were Bilbo and Sam. She realized they were the ones she wanted to see most of all.  
  
She hoped Frodo had forgotten about her- all they needed was a distraction like love to mess up the quest. Sarah was determined not to let him fall in love with her, no matter what. Of course, she tried to ignore the possibility that she might actually love him, too.  
  
Sarah wondered how Sam was doing. His loyalty and determination and common hobbit sense put him on a pedestal in Sarah's mind. She felt so honored to even know him, even if it had been seventeen years since they'd spoken.  
  
Meeting up with Merry and Pippin had brought her countenance to unreachable heights. Sarah hadn't realized how depressed she had been until the hobbits brought her out of it.  
  
Of course, Sarah reasoned that she would have reacted the same way to Pippin if they had been reunited first, but she couldn't shake the memory of the dizzying feeling she got when Merry had his arms wrapped around her. He always had that carefree, cheeky wink to lift her spirits. He was older now, by her calculations, about eighteen in human equivalence, thirty- eight by year. Much too young for her.  
  
But he had always acted so much older, right?  
  
Sarah bit her lip and closed her eyes. What was that look again, the way Merry had looked at her when he held her head at the base of the neck? His fingers tangled in her hair, and he had such a gleam in his eyes-  
  
'Stop it, silly. Stop it. You don't have time for juvenile fancies that probably have no basis in reality whatsoever. Besides, he just thinks of you as a sister. An OLDER sister.'  
  
But Sarah didn't feel old. She felt… timeless.  
  
'Heh, ironic words,' Sarah thought. 'Timeless. All you need is to figure out how to FIX time, so you and Ryan can get home.'  
  
That brought her mind back to her brother- Ryan… why would he not want to see her? It just didn't make sense! He HAD to want to see her, right? He couldn't be THAT angry with her… it had been so long. Of course, Ryan had always held a grudge. Sarah remembered when Billy Parker had kicked her and pushed her into the dirt on the playground in third grade, and five years later Ryan 'accidentally' let the guy's ten speed bike roll into a lake.  
  
With a jolt, Sarah came back to the present, and tried to catch up on the conversation.  
  
Everyone had fallen still and silent, because Frodo had just been asked to bring out the Ring.  
  
"Behold Isildur's Bane!" said Elrond.  
  
"The Halfling!" Sarah barely heard Boromir mutter. "Is them the doom of Minas Tirith come at last? But why then should we seek a broken sword?"  
  
Heh, Sarah thought. Tell 'im, Aragorn!  
  
The Ranger addressed Boromir. "The words were not 'the doom of Minas Tirith'. But doom and great deeds are indeed at hand. For the Sword that was Broken is the Sword of Elendil that broke beneath him when he fell. It has been treasured by his heirs when all other heirlooms were lost; for it was spoken of old among us that it should be made again when the Ring, Isildur's Bane, was found. Now you have seen the sword that you have sought, what would you ask? Do you wish for the House of Elendil to return to the Land of Gondor?"  
  
Eh, here we go. Arguing, pride, all getting in the way of the real issue. Destroying the Ring.  
  
Bilbo finally broke in with his verse, and put Boromir in his place. Sarah had to bit back a giggle- Bilbo was still full of spirit, even after so many years. Sarah sighed as she recalled how Bilbo would soon offer to take the One Ring to Mordor himself. Very brave- and it rubbed off on Frodo. Sarah lay her head on the crook of her arm, because Bilbo would soon tell his there-and-back-again tale, and she was getting sleepy.  
  
Rivendell really was a peaceful place. Sarah looked out across the path, into the valley. It reminded her painfully of Colorado- or maybe Salt River Canyon. Completely surreal, it was hard to believe she was even here. More difficult to believe she hadn't met with a single member of the fellowship besides the hobbits, who had gone back to worrying about Frodo after the brief distraction of seeing their old friend. They had no idea Sarah was involved in this- how could they?  
  
She wondered where Alder was- he'd gone searching for Aragorn a few days ago, and Sarah hadn't seen him since. Unfortunately, everything here in Middle-Earth took much more time than back home. Sarah had noticed this patently- what would have taken a day took three here, and what would have taken ten minutes took hours. It suited her- everything was restfully… slow.  
  
A breeze ruffled the trees nearby, and Sarah breathed it in deep. Her eyes fluttered, and drooped.  
  
***  
  
"I- I know nothing anymore- this cannot be right- please- I beg of you- there must be another way-"  
  
Narin felt tears in her eyes, and she drew a hand to her mouth. "Please…" she repeated.  
  
'NO,' the voice in her head repeated silkily. 'This is the only way. You wish to surpass eternity with your mortal love? You know what you must do.'  
  
"B-but- I-"  
  
'Ah, I understand. You allow your doubts and fears to rule over your love. Which will you allow victory? You will lose him, you know this…'  
  
"Yes. I know." She sniffled, and regained composure. "Of course. I shall not waver again."  
  
Just then, another elf walked into the room. "Lady Narindrel, the council is finished. Were you looking for Lord Elrond? He is quite anxious to meet with your Ryan. In fact, Aragorn son of Arathorn as well as Gandalf the Grey wish a meeting. Would he refuse yet again?"  
  
Narin waved a hand dismissively. "He is still sick. He wants to see no one. Do not disturb him!"  
  
The elf bowed and left the room. Narin collected herself and almost left, when another elf entered. No- not another elf. A man.  
  
"Oh, I've found you."  
  
"Ryan! Why have you left bed? You are still sick- see how you stagger? And sweat shades your face, pale and sunken! What would you have, death given at request? Return to our room at once!"  
  
Ryan steadied himself on a chair, unknowingly leaning on the chair in which Aragorn had sat during the council. "I must see Elrond, Narin. Can you not understand? I need to know what's happening! When will the rest of the fellowship arrive? You must know, at least! Please, my love, please. I cannot chance missing my sister- this gains precedence over my health, at least! Please!"  
  
Narin wrapped her arm around him, and led him off like a child. "When I see color in your cheeks again, we can discuss a meeting. Until then, you will rest! Nothing else."  
  
They left the room.  
  
Fifteen feet away, Sarah's eyes popped opened, her heart beating faster than her mind was racing. Lulled out of dreams by conversation, but awakened by shock.  
  
  
  
~~~I went and saw FotR again, so I was inspired. No more writer's block! Wahoo!  
  
Hey, review, please! Even if it's just to say "Way to go! Keep it up!"  
  
Heck, flame me if you want. Just review! 


	9. Alone, Lost, Unaware

Disclaimer: I don't own, heck, most of the stuff in this chapter. Somebody must own Les Mis, sure isn't me. Tolkien owns almost everything else. I own Sarah and Ryan.  
  
A/N: This is a short little interlude-y chapter. VERY IMPORTANT, THOUGH.  
  
Everyone go read kewl's stories and poems, and Micki's story! I've actually inspired people to write! Wahoo! I'm all muse-y!  
  
Ian: *standing in an undershirt, green boxers and socks, eating grape yogurt with a fork and not succeeding* Yeah, but who inspires you? ME, that's right, baby. Just so we get it straight. *gives up on the yogurt and eats the fork. Don't ask.*  
  
That was weird. I should stop procrastinating with my muse and write, right? I'm not taking notes on a chapter for English, studying for my Bio final, or writing two essays to do this. Talk about procrastination.  
  
Oh, and by the way, this chapter contains a MAJORLY IMPORTANT PLOT TWIST.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
To reiterate: MAJORLY IMPORTANT.  
  
(Starbrat- yes, the plot thickens… thick thick thick, oh yeah, thick…)  
  
7  
  
  
  
While Merry and Pippin argued their way into the Fellowship, while the One Ring weighed heavily on Boromir's mind, while Aragorn and Gandalf prepared grimly for the coming journey, while Frodo enjoyed his last days of peace at Rivendell, while Sam pondered over what to bring, while Alder pined after an oblivious young woman, while Ryan Dean fell to fever again, while Sarah Dean wrestled with the suspicion of deceit, the rest of the world trudged ever forward into tomorrow.  
  
Not a single one imagined that a crucial part of their quest was missing- none realized that the cause of their coming failures stemmed from one solitary mistake. But, as it tends to do, time went on.  
  
Even in the crowded kitchens of King Theoden…  
  
***  
  
The woman wiped greasy sweat from her brow, and glanced longingly out the window. She knew, after years of working in this sweatshop otherwise known as the king's kitchen, exactly where the sun would be when she could leave. This morning she was working especially hard because it was the King Theoden's niece's birthday. They would feast morning, noon, and night, then go back to rationing. The restrictions always seemed to leave the poorest with the emptiest pockets, she thought with a sigh.  
  
Her long, once-smooth golden hair was wrapped hastily in a tight handkerchief, so nothing would interfere with her cooking. On the menu this morning? Roasted pears with almond sauce, eggs from the king's prize chickens prepared in every way imaginable, boiled apples and tea leaves mixed to a thick porridge, and a host of other foods. Right now, she churned the steaming apples in a huge basin, mixing spices in as she saw fit, while keeping a close eye on the peaches.  
  
She hummed to herself, a tune that none of the other kitchen maids had ever heard. Sometimes, if she was lucky, they would call for a song, and she could cook in peace. It was always easier to sing and work that stay silent. But mostly the older women would gripe and occasionally throw things to make her stop, if the hustle and bustle lessened enough for her to be heard.  
  
Now, Ionae, one of the youngest, laughed gaily for her to sing. It seemed they were all in high spirits today, she noticed thankfully.  
  
"Come, now, Mahda!" Ionae called. No one called her by her true name- they could barely pronounce it, so Mahda was what came out. In fact, the women working here were from all over Middle-Earth, chosen for their culinary talents, so nicknames were more the rule than the exception. "Rival the songbirds!"  
  
"Oh, all right," she murmured. "Again, this is not in your tongue. I'll sing a song from my land, but I can translate later if you'd like!"  
  
"Oh, if we were want of a school lesson, we would not be fit to work now! I think we are not, so we are, so sing!" grumbled someone beyond a column of smoke also known as a baking duck in the process of burning.  
  
"Ionae, child!" another woman shrieked, and saved the duck and bringing an uproar.  
  
Mahda sighed. Then she began to sing, hoping everyone would calm down.  
  
"And now I'm all alone again  
  
Nowhere to turn, no one to go to  
  
Without a home, without a friend  
  
Without a face to say hello to  
  
And now the night is near, and I can make  
  
Believe he's here.  
  
Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping.  
  
I think of him and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping  
  
The city goes to bed  
  
And I can live inside my head.  
  
On my own  
  
Pretending he's beside me.  
  
All alone I walk with him till morning  
  
Without him  
  
I feel his arms around me  
  
And when I lose my way I close my eyes  
  
And he has found me.  
  
In the rain the pavement shines like silver  
  
All the lights are misty in the river  
  
In the darkness the trees are full of starlight  
  
And all I see is him and me for ever and forever.  
  
And I know it's only in my mind  
  
That I'm talking to myself and not to him  
  
And although I know that he is blind  
  
Still I say there's a way for us.  
  
I love him  
  
But when the night is over  
  
He is gone, the river's just a river  
  
Without him the world around me changes  
  
The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers.  
  
I love him  
  
But everyday I'm learning  
  
All my life I've only been pretending  
  
Without me his world will go on turning  
  
A world that's full of happiness that I have  
  
Never known.  
  
I love him, I love him.  
  
I love him, but only on my own."  
  
Everyone was quiet. It really was a beautiful song, requiring relative silence for the full effect. And, truly, everyone felt the full effect.  
  
After a long moment, Iorae ventured quietly, "Eh, Mahda, are those words out of your own head?"  
  
Mahda blushed. "Oh, of course not. It's a song from Les Miserables."  
  
"Lay- what?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. Something from my past. You wouldn't know it."  
  
Then the head chef gave the ten-minute shout, and everyone bustled back to focused work.  
  
~~~*random scoffing as reviewers glance at each other in irritation*  
  
And the reviewers say, "What in the heck is she talking about?"  
  
And the author responds, "Heh heh heh. I love springing mysterious plot twists! They're so satisfying!"  
  
REVIEW! 


	10. Digging Deeper

Disclaimer: Nah. I'm broke. I don't even have a job. I own nothing.  
  
A/N: Here it is, the long awaited (okay, I hope it was long-awaited) next chapter. Blech. Just read.  
  
PS: I think I broke my left pointer finger playing baseball today. Its weird to have to type without it. Anyway.  
  
8  
  
She paced- that was what Sarah did when she had something on her mind. Ryan used to complain that she was going to wear holes in the carpet…  
  
Back and forth, footstep after footstep. She'd taken to going barefoot here in Rivendell- no one minded anyway. It was all singing and pondering and laughing and eating- now that the council was over, everyone had a new sense of purpose. Even if a definite feeling of foreboding had washed over the home, it was coupled with determination and courage.  
  
Even Pippin and Merry, who had come to see her every day for the past week, were noticeably worried about Frodo and Sam. Nothing more had been decided thus far about the Fellowship, besides the two hobbits being at the head, so the three spent hours debating who would be going. Sarah tried not to let on that Gandalf, in fact, would be supporting Merry and Pippin while Elrond didn't want them to go, because their fervor was part of what convinced Elrond to let them go.  
  
Sarah hadn't seen Frodo or Sam yet- she desperately wanted to, but she didn't think it was a good idea quite yet. She didn't know why- it was just a feeling. Maybe simple fear.  
  
Basically, no one really knew anything about what was going on besides Sarah, and Alder of course. He was her advisor, sympathetic ear, and friend His room was right next to hers, and so he spent most of his time around Sarah, both voluntarily and because Sarah felt better with him around. At this moment, Alder was inspecting the pipe that Merry had given her so long ago in Hobbiton, while Sarah paced by the window.  
  
"They won't leave for about two months," she murmured, just loud enough for Alder to know she wasn't talking to herself.  
  
"Two months? You have very little time to work everything out. Will you try to leave with the fellowship?" Alder had made himself clear many times- wherever she went, he would go. Even if Aragorn hadn't asked it of him, he would have.  
  
"Hmmmm… no," Sarah finally said, though it was still unclear in her mind. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to alter anything that's going to happen… Oh, I hate this."  
  
So many things swimming around in her mind… Frodo… the fate of Middle- Earth… her brother… the hobbits… Frodo… their future… Saruman… time travel… a carving with no hands… music… lies… Frodo… why couldn't she get him off of her mind?  
  
She rubbed her temples in despair. Alder couldn't help but rise reflexively and put a hand on her shoulder. "Tell me what you're thinking. Please."  
  
She stopped. "Okay. If you insist.  
  
Remember the books I told you about, that tell the story of this whole war that's about to start? Well, I always hated the ending. I absolutely HATED it. Frodo is… he doesn't deserve this! He will be absolutely ruined by this whole horrible ordeal, so he can't even go back to his own life! He has to leave everyone- even Sam! He is an amazing, kind, sweet, normal person who is thrown into this quest because he's brave and strong and willing to sacrifice himself for the good of others! He sacrifices himself for the sake of the ones he loves, and it broke my heart when I read that! How can I sit back and watch him be destroyed, when I know what is going to happen and what I could change? When I read the ending to the book, the only thing I said to myself was: I wish I could take his place."  
  
Angry tears had formed in her eyes. Alder understood her tendency to rant, so he just let her go on. She would calm herself down in a minute.  
  
"BUT I CAN'T! This is Frodo's destiny and his quest and no one can do it but him! And that's what really scares me, because I have a quest as well- the quest concerning the Phenilring. What if I fail? What if I break- its already broken Ryan and I, how can I go on? I have to do something about Narindrel, because she's lying to him to keep him away from all of this- but how can I blame her? If Ryan stays away from everyone, the whole ordeal will pass him by! How could I want any less for my brother- I can't sit back and watch him ruined. But how can I do this alone? I can't. Frodo has Sam, the whole way through. Did I ever tell you that? Sam is the true hero of this quest. He never gives up- never! Even when Frodo gives out at the end, he never gives up! I can't trust Ryan to give me the same loyalty- he's already let me down! And I obviously am not devoted enough to him to sacrifice anything to keep us together. We're lost- something is missing. So, basically, I have no idea what to do." Her arms fell at her sides in defeat.  
  
Alder frowned. "Lady Sarah, I have known you for quite a while now, would you agree?"  
  
"Yeah. Yes." A pained look crossed her face, but she didn't push away. She could tell he wasn't trying to be romantic right now- he actually wanted to help.  
  
He looked straight into her eyes. "Give a moment's thought to what you just said. Simply a moment's thought."  
  
Brow furrowed, Sarah bit her lip and actually listened to him. It took her about ten seconds. She straightened up, her demeanor completely changed.  
  
"You're right," she replied evenly, her jaw set. "I'm being ridiculous. I was actually on the verge of giving up, there, Alder. Thank you."  
  
He smiled. He knew her too well.  
  
"So what are we going to do?"  
  
Sarah stroked her jaw- what was their goal, anyway? "We need to get to Saruman, preferably after the Ents destroy Isengard. That's in, ah, early March, I think. If today is… November second… then we have about four months. Saruman will have fallen by then and we may have the power to… what? I suppose we'll know when we get there. At least I hope so- if it turns out to be as easy as destroying the Phenilring or the Phenilstone, I'll be relieved." Her voice took on a flippant tone. "But now, my dear Alder, I have business to attend to. I want my brother back."  
  
She walked out of the room, for the first time in a week, with a fire in her eyes that had been lit few times before. Alder shook his head and said softly, "Grace and peace to you, Lady Sarah. May your wit outstretch the sharpness of your tongue, or we may all regret your passion."  
  
***  
  
Ryan's head spun, and he couldn't seem to form coherent thoughts. He almost lost where he was for a moment, but he focused on the carved wood above his head, and this reminded him moment by moment that he was in his own bed in Rivendell. With his wife, breathing softly, by his side.  
  
Distracted thoughts swam through his head, making no clear sense, like a puzzle that Ryan knew would make a complete picture if only he could put the pieces together.  
  
Sarah… Narin… the council… Saruman… the Phenilring… truth… the warning… a dream of missing hands… the future and the past…  
  
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he thought he could pick out a form bending over him. It murmured and stroked his forehead gently. Ryan moaned and tried to raise his hand, but he was too weak. As the figure bent closer, he could almost imagine it was Sarah herself, but Ryan told himself detachedly that he was hallucinating.  
  
But she seemed so real.  
  
***  
  
Sarah stole back to her room, heart pounding like the hoofbeats of a racehorse. Alder rose in surprise as she shut the door.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I think she's making him sick. Narindrel. I think she's making my brother sick."  
  
Alder's eyes grew wide. "What makes you think this?" he asked, joining her leaning against the mantle of the low fireplace.  
  
"I don't know- you're right, maybe I'm being silly. Maybe he's just sick of his own accord, right? But how can I be sure?"  
  
Alder sighed. "It would not be wise to accuse her if you have no proof. I suggest you find reason before you attempt to divide husband and wife."  
  
Sarah looked down at her dress, grinning. "Well, I sure can't follow anyone wearing something like this. Where are my real clothes?"  
  
***  
  
For the next week, Sarah spent every waking moment casually exploring Rivendell, speaking to no one and making sure the elves began to take her presence in all sorts of places lightly. Eventually she could walk the halls almost anywhere in Rivendell without getting a second glance. This was perfect, because Narin seemed to know every nook and cranny of the place, and she had the uncanny ability to disappear around corners faster than Sarah could follow. The elf also avoided the hobbits almost pointedly, so Sarah didn't have that added complication either.  
  
Sure, the human had qualms about trying to tail an elf, but Sarah found she could give herself a reason to be anywhere, so Narin never gave any sign of suspecting something.  
  
Of course, it was more difficult to follow when Narin rode into the woods.  
  
After her third disappearance on horseback, Sarah finally saddled Atriedes and followed. She told her horse to keep quiet but never lose the trail, and this steed of Rohan was a very smart animal. In a small glade over a mile from sight of the Last Homely House, Sarah found Narin's horse grazing while the elf quietly picked the petals from a small snaking plant. Sarah circled and hid in thicker forest, making sure Narin was far gone before she ventured to inspect the plant.  
  
It was small, completely harmless. Or, seemingly. Sarah had the presence of mind to wear her gloves when she picked a few vines from the plant, so nothing could disturb possible evidence. She would take this straight to Aragorn, and maybe, hopefully, get some answers.  
  
A day later, when she could finally find Aragorn and get him alone, Sarah showed him a small piece of the plant, watching his reaction closely before saying a word.  
  
The Ranger's jaw dropped when he saw what she carried. His mind was full of more pressing thoughts, so he hadn't bothered to think of this girl for weeks. A One Ring of power invaded his thoughts, and the Phenilring could be pushed aside, in the capapble hands of Alder.  
  
Aragorn had no idea anything was going on with Narin, and Sarah didn't tell him. No reason to distract the future king of Middle-Earth with a tiny thing like this.  
  
"Where did you find this?" he asked sharply.  
  
"In a glade about a mile from here. Can you tell me what it is? I've never seen it before on all of my travels."  
  
Aragorn held the petals gently, inspecting them incredulously, almost as if he expected them to disappear. "This is rucana, also called dropberry. It grows only in the low hills of Dunland, and it is harmful, even deadly in large amounts. I greatly fear the reasons for its appearance in Rivendell."  
  
Sarah narrowed her eyes. "Deadly? I have no idea how it got here, but you've helped me greatly. Thank you." She stalked off before he could question her further.  
  
Alder met her just outside her room, which was right next to his. She held up the small vine of dropberry in triumph. Alder halted.  
  
"Where did you find such a plant? This is deadly, Sarah!"  
  
"Yeah. I got that. Narin's been feeding it to Ryan, I think. I wonder if that idiot knows it could kill him." Sarah kept walking, straight into her room.  
  
"Alder," she said lightly as she began pulling out her clothes and piling them on the bed, "do you remember where Dunland is?"  
  
"Of course I do. Why?" he sat on the edge of the bed, wondering why in the world she was packing.  
  
"Saruman. Isengard. This plant. Don't you see? I heard her talking to herself! It's so ridiculous, but it all fits! I've been wrong, but only a little bit."  
  
She laughed bitterly. Alder frowned. "I do not understand."  
  
Sarah shook a pair of boots at him for emphasis. "Saruman! It all comes back to him!"  
  
"Ahem. Are we leaving, Lady Sarah?"  
  
"Yeah, Alder, we're leaving. And with a little luck, Ryan is coming with us."  
  
She threw her hastily packed sack across the room, where it hit the door and slid to a stop. She nodded in satisfaction, then glanced pointedly at Alder. He got up, bewildered, and went to pack his things.  
  
*** The next chapter is coming very soon! Confrontation between Sarah and Ryan and Narin! They lay it all on the line, baby!  
  
Review, please! Input is always appreciated! I love my faithful reviewers- where are they??? 


	11. The Author Gets Exposition Fever

Disclaimer:  
  
Never made it as a Tolkien,  
  
Couldn't cut it as JRR writing,  
  
Its not like you thought I was him,  
  
Sick and tired of stupid disclaimers,  
  
And this is how you remind me of what I do not own  
  
This is how you remind me of what I do not own  
  
Its not like you  
  
To sue me  
  
I was waiting for a review anyway  
  
This time I know its fine  
  
To claim that I don't own nothing!  
  
'You Remind Me'  
  
-Nickelback, sort of  
  
I also don't own: any quotes from 'The Mummy Returns', any old comedy duos, animated talking vegetables, or any of Shakespeare's plays. I mention them a lot in here.  
  
A/N: I love summer vacation! The rocks cry out my name- "Caaaaaaaara, Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaara," they say, "Come and cliiiiiiiiiiiiiimb us!"  
  
Yes, rocks. Yes.  
  
Anyway, here comes chapter 9. It's very long and pretty darn important.  
  
Think of it like a '64 Camaro with flames painted on the hood.  
  
Ian: Don't ask me. I don't know what she's talking about.  
  
9  
  
The voices swam around her, creating a sort of raucous blend of relentless pain inside her head. She didn't even bother listening to what they were saying anymore. She stepped back and looked at what her life was like right now, wondering how everything fell apart so quickly.  
  
Narin was shouting, shaking a pouch of rucana vine found tied to Sarah's horse, Atriedes, for emphasis. The elf was crying for Sarah's exile, accusing her of vengefully poisoning her brother, and her argument was very convincing- she'd found Sarah rummaging through hers and Ryan's things.  
  
Alder was between Sarah and Narin, hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes wide in horror of the irony.  
  
Ryan was lying in bed, sweating cold and unconscious. He'd gotten paler than when Sarah last saw him, only yesterday.  
  
Now more elves were running in, arrows drawn on Alder, now he was pulling his sword and backing away. Now Narin was crying. Now Sarah rubbed her temples and watched everything slowly disintegrate before her eyes.  
  
She could clearly imagine what would happen next. If they were lucky, she and Alder would only be exiled from Rivendell, and if Ryan was lucky, he would live and spend the rest of his life thinking his sister had gone homicidally insane. Worst-case scenario? Sarah and Alder would die as the situation escalated, and Ryan would succumb to the poison. And the whole cycle would start over again.  
  
Sarah closed her eyes as the world around her faded and thought fervently, 'Ryan, HELP…'  
  
As cruel ironies, go, this would be a great one. Ryan's eyes fluttered open, and he sat shakily up in bed. Sarah's jaw dropped, and instantly everything came back into focus. She rushed past Alder and Narin, to her brother's side.  
  
"Ryan? Ryan, can you hear me?" she grasped his hand, and with a leap of her heart, he squeezed back.  
  
"Of course I can hear you, you're shouting madly," he murmured, eyes half-closed  
  
He rubbed his forehead, and everyone in the room paused. Sarah turned to Alder quickly. "Drop your sword." He did.  
  
"Ryan, look at me. Listen to me," she pleaded, as her brother tried to bring the room into focus.  
  
Narin shrieked and Sarah found herself shoved unceremoniously out of the way. The elf threw her arms around her husband, and Ryan weakly drew his arms around her.  
  
Sarah narrowed her eyes. She stood, brushed herself off. "If you desire resolution in this conflict, call for Lord Elrond, Aragorn, and Gandalf. We will find out the truth." One of the elves with bows drawn nodded, and disappeared. The rest kept a steady eye on the outsiders.  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Your awakening has not healed him, Lady Sarah," Elrond said quietly, after finally emerging from Ryan's room. "His body had been wrecked by this poison, and though he will heal, both mind and body have yet to find their former strength. I have done all that I can, and now we must wait on time."  
  
Sarah couldn't help but feel a quivering respect for Lord Elrond- great, noble, she could see the fear of power he felt in the face of such evil as the One Ring, and she realized how the twin's presence must be upsetting the balance of temporary peace here in Rivendell. She knew she could count on his sagacity.  
  
Sarah eyed Narin, who was sitting across the room glaring at her. "May I speak now, please?"  
  
Elrond glanced at Aragorn, then Gandalf, and finally at Alder. "I believe it is time we heard you."  
  
"Wonderful! Okay, here's what I can figure. It all comes back to Saruman, hallelujah- you all finally know that he's evil. I truly wanted to tell you, Gandalf, but it couldn't alter the timeline, you know. And you probably wouldn't have believed me anyway, right?"  
  
Gandalf pursed his lips but said nothing.  
  
"Thought so. Anyway, I think Saruman has been affecting Narin. He's been influencing her mind, abiding in her thoughts, causing her to do things she wouldn't normally do-" Narin stood in angered protest at this, but Lord Elrond motioned for her to sit.  
  
"Thank you. Anyway, I heard Narin speaking to herself, as though she were battling with a voice inside her mind, and losing. He's twisted her reasoning and given her the means to poison my brother, through this plant! Aragorn can tell you that I brought it to him myself, and how would I know what it is? I tell you, I have not been poisoning Ryan! Narin only, in a distorted way, cared for their love." She paused, but decided to go on with her suspicions.  
  
"I don't think she is connected to the Phenilring at all. I think Saruman put all of this in her mind, so she would be closely connected to Ryan and she'd be able to deliver him the Phenilring. It made no sense that she- for no reason- traveled everywhere with the ring. I don't think she's traveled through time at all."  
  
Narin was almost white now, and completely silent.  
  
"I can testify to her truthfulness involving the rucana, if that may help," Alder added, knowing full well that Aragorn respected him highly, and so Elrond and Gandalf did as well.  
  
"It is true- she did bring this plant to me, asking of its nature," Aragorn conceded.  
  
"Scouts have found the withered evidence of an old plant, now blackened and dead, in the glade of which Sarah has spoken. I believe that Saruman has stretched his power to its farthest reaches, and he has even infected Rivendell. This does not bode well for the quest, or for the peril of Middle-Earth." The great elf-lord sighed heavily.  
  
"I can only assure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure this doesn't affect the Quest. Saruman was not in search of the One Ring when he cast his gaze this way." Sarah hesitated, "or at least I don't think he was."  
  
"May I not simply have the chance to defend myself?" Narin cried, interrupting everyone's grim thoughts.  
  
Her eyes darted wildly, making her seem like a cornered animal. Lord Elrond softly walked to the shaking woman. He laid a hand on either shoulder and looked straight into her eyes. "Child…" was all he said.  
  
Finally, Narin had to face all the suspicions, all the uncertainty, all the hesitations she had ignored for so long for the sake of unity with the man she thought she loved.  
  
Narin broke. Her face crumbled and she collapsed into tears of anguish. "I- I did not- please… " she looked so like a child, Sarah weakened in remembering how much she had hated the elf for so long. Thus the power of love, she thought ironically.  
  
She stood silently. Alder rose as well, but she motioned for him to sit. As Elrond held the weeping Narindrel in his arms, Sarah turned to Aragorn. "I plead with you, change nothing in the actions of the fellowship. Leave no earlier or later, take no different road. It is essential- we cannot chance the Ring falling into the hands of the enemy."  
  
Aragorn paused. "Would you not expedite the quest by revealing our failures and mistakes?"  
  
She took a step closer, speaking very softly. "The One Ring and the Phenilring must remain two separate quests. I cannot even tell you if you succeed, because your doubts and uncertainty lead some of your decisions, as well as your courage and cleverness. Do you not understand? I don't know what Ryan and I must do, but we will do it. Whatever it takes to return time to its proper place. Aragorn."  
  
He looked at her hard for a moment, then nodded once.  
  
Sarah smiled, and turned. No one stopped her as she walked determinedly into Ryan's room and shut the door firmly behind her. She halted.  
  
"Ryan? Ryan…what are you doing?"  
  
He wore the clothes of an elf, a sword strapped to his side. He was pacing back and forth, and he could have appeared completely healthy if not for the dark circles under his eyes and the pale tint to his skin. He was pacing back and forth with a dark look on his face that frightened Sarah unreasonably.  
  
"Ryan?" she asked again, gently.  
  
"How dare you," he said in a low voice.  
  
"What?" she stepped a little bit closer, but, in a flash, Ryan had drawn his sword and was pointing it at her neck. Sarah didn't dare move.  
  
***  
  
Ryan had no idea who he was looking at, but it certainly wasn't his sister. How dare this creature claim her voice? The room was almost spinning, but it was clearer than it had been a few hours ago. He could barely remember…  
  
This… black, ugly slimy… THING had said Narindrel, his beautiful, pristine Narindrel… it said she tried to hurt him. Narin would never.  
  
"How dare you accuse my wife of poisoning me?" he spat, making sure this thing didn't move.  
  
He could barely look at it, it was so disgusting, and he almost lost his balance from lightheadedness and toppled over. Ryan lowered the sword slightly and leaned heavily on the bedpost. As he looked away, he recognized his sister's voice more clearly.  
  
"You can't mean that. I didn't say she betrayed you- it wasn't her fault!"  
  
"She did nothing!" Ryan growled. "She would never betray me. I love her more than anything in this world. I am her… her Ryaden. Shut up."  
  
"So you deny your family and refuse your name for the sake of the woman you love. Ironic how it is bringing you to ruin," the voice was now full of bitter sarcasm, and he could almost imagine it was Sarah herself. "Does that make you Romeo?"  
  
Sarah. It had to be Sarah… if he just kept his eyes away, it was her… Ryan's mind trudged forward.  
  
Sarah thinks she is well versed in Shakespeare, eh? he thought. He knew every Shakespearean work by heart, and she was no match for him.  
  
Ryan frowned. "If I am Romeo, would that make you Mercutio? Ha. Life has tipped its hat to stronger stuff than you… Sarah. What are you made of?"  
  
"What makes me? What makes YOU? I have woven my life around my means and future ends. I am no Mercutio, though, if you'd asked, I would have bent as Benvolio to your Montague. However, my will and your want were alike as bull and dove- one solid and steadfast, the other uncertain and simpering." She fairly spat the acidic words.  
  
At this Ryan scoffed. "Simpering? How can a rock be simpering? How can a real man be weak? I would be more woman than man if that were true. Apparently, I am Macbeth above Romeo, dear sister. I was not led to murder, only to leaving my sister, and led by the prompting of the woman I love. But I will not, no, I refuse to justify myself to such a disgusting Iago as stands before me."  
  
Sarah's jaw dropped, though Ryan didn't see it. "You think I am lying about her? You cannot trust her as she is, Ryan- she was being controlled by Saruman! I do not speak out of malice, only fear for my brother! Would I were Orlando to your Oliver, after the battle with the lion."  
  
"I think no less of you than you deserve. And no battle with any beast would sway my sight of you- conniving, wretched, broken and scheming after years of loneliness and a vengeful spirit." His eyes swept her up and down with disgust, and he finally declared,  
  
"Edmund! Trusted one, betrayed me! No realization could so scour my eyes and destroy my will than this that I experience! You, sister! No, no sister of mine. I deny you that honor, at least. You care only for yourself."  
  
After this tearing, Sarah lost all love for formal language. She resorted to the only thing she thought would make him see reason- vernacular and a good chewing out.  
  
"Oh, spare me the Machiavellian accusations, Ryan! I am no Edmund! Why would I pit you against your love? How would that benefit me? The only stake I have in this idiotic mess we call a quest, is the constancy of knowing I have a brother to confide in and run to, and the idea that maybe we'll get out of this alive, with Middle-Earth safe. You can't promise your little wife anything more, and you know it! So why don't you climb down off of that high-horse of yours, and join the REAL world again! You know, the world where we are on the same side? You and me? Batman and Robin? Abbot and Costello? Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber? WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SILENT BOB? Come on."  
  
She rested her arms at her sides helplessly, a pure appeal.  
  
The conflicting thoughts showed painfully on his face. He felt very drawn to her, and he hated to see her in pain. But something made him stop… made him want to sever himself from her. He wanted nothing to do with her, this disgusting object of hatred! She had to get out, he had to make her leave, or kill her! But he loved her more than anything in the world…  
  
His hand twitched at the hilt of his sword. He could kill her, quickly, but for some reason there was nothing he wanted to do less in the world. And more.  
  
Ryan forced himself to calm down, think rationally.  
  
Who is standing in front of you? His mind answered, your sister.  
  
But his eyes answered differently. He saw a small, crouched figure, emanating slimy deceit.  
  
What is going on? He closed his eyes, and forced himself to picture the Sarah he knew. She was funny, silly, strong and sarcastic. Larry to his Bob. Faithful, emotional, decisive. Honest.  
  
He opened his eyes.  
  
"Sing."  
  
Sarah let out a quick, cutting laugh. Then she realized he was serious.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, Sing." Ryan placed a hand directly on the hilt of his sword, gripping it decisively. "I don't know what's going on, and I don't know what I see, but I know one thing that will tell me if I can trust you. Sing."  
  
She nodded slowly, not taking an eye off that sword for a second.  
  
"Okay. I can do that. Give me a minute."  
  
He waited- he could wait all day if it would show him that his sister stood before him, same as so many years ago.  
  
She picked a light, smirking song. It was at once cheerful and sarcastic, honest and hopeful. A truly blatant song.  
  
"Open up this box of sunshine,  
  
and smile as confetti comes raining down on you.  
  
You feel a lot like the 'good guy',  
  
But do you know why  
  
Everything's so blue?  
  
Well, love is fire and the coals are barely burning.  
  
Cold fills the emptiness that fills this empty place  
  
I taught you to walk but then you ran away from me  
  
And that's not how it's supposed to be -"  
  
She left it right there, without starting the chorus. He would have to continue it- can't forsake the rhythm, right? The measures passed like a snap of the fingers, and Sarah's stomach jumped-  
  
"I, I collide,  
  
Love is an elusive state of mind,  
  
I know there's something else there's supposed to be.  
  
I, I collide,  
  
Love is an elusive state of mind,  
  
Something's killing me!"  
  
They ended singing together. Then, Sarah skipped a verse and sang from memory:  
  
"You could be the best one,  
  
to clean up this filthy mess…"  
  
"You could be the best one," Ryan went on, the notes rising.  
  
"Be the best one-" higher.  
  
"Be the best one…" finished.  
  
Both panted slightly. But Ryan looked at his sister, and trusted what he saw.  
  
***  
  
A grin broke out on her brother's face, and Sarah choked back a happy sob. She finally had her brother back.  
  
Ryan dropped his sword and held out his right hand. Sarah wanted nothing more than to take that hand, and as she grasped it, electricity shot through her.  
  
"The greatest relief," she whispered.  
  
"Joyous reunion," he answered softly.  
  
Then both looked down at their clasped hands, and froze.  
  
Images flooded both minds- the same images. Gandalf's story of his visions in the Galadriel's mirror- two people, one hand. The wizard didn't say three hands, one shared between the two. He said ONE HAND. That would mean… Images of a person, from a dream and a statue, without hands.  
  
Ryan's eyes shot to Sarah's. "We were separated…"  
  
"…no hands."  
  
"But when we are together, we are bonded- we share. Connected."  
  
His heart pounded at the realization, and Sarah gasped for breath. "But even when we're together… something is missing. We're both…"  
  
"Missing the bond, missing another connection. Missing another hand."  
  
"Three. Not two."  
  
"Completion."  
  
"But who? Who are we missing?"  
  
Suddenly Ryan laughed, as it all came together. "The Children of Númenor. Amanda."  
  
Sarah smacked herself on the forehead. "I don't know why we assumed she wasn't involved! Three! A triangle, bonding us all together, Númenorean blood- the three children of Númenor! …But it doesn't matter, does it? She's back in 2002… right?"  
  
"I thought so… and Gandalf's vision- we fail when we are bonded as two. We are missing the third side of the triangle- I think that's why we fail. We have to get her to us, somehow…"  
  
"But we can't risk using the ring! Remember- evil for good? This would be a very great act, and so something very evil would accompany it." Sarah still held onto her brother's hand- she fervently didn't want to let it go.  
  
"Let's ask Gandalf and Aragorn. Maybe they'll know what to do."  
  
Sarah nodded, and both strode out of the room with new life.  
  
  
  
~~~ The author felt like a little exposition. Okay, a lot of exposition. It's so satisfying when big chunks of the plot start falling into place! Yay!  
  
Review, please! 


	12. Gone

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Well, um. okay, no. I don't own anything. No operas, no coffee shops in downtown Colorado Springs, no camps, no nothing. And if the owner of Pikes Perk reads this, I do NOT really do that. Um. Really.  
  
A/N: Yeah, I'm back. Finally writing again. *silence* Everyone can stop clapping wildly.  
  
*silence continues*  
  
*sigh* Nevermind. Anyway, y'all were wondering how the plot was going to continue.  
  
Good question- I admit I had no idea how to continue. Were Sarah and Ryan going with the Fellowship, or what? So I had to go back and look at the way I've developed the characters. and it just sort of popped into my head! (Thank you, Ian my darling!) Frodo was never supposed to fall in love- so how does it change the way he acts now that he has??? Chapter 10, ladies and gents. I hope you enjoy- I put in more hobbitness, just for you!  
  
  
  
10  
  
The Fellowship would be leaving soon. Very soon. Sarah and Ryan felt like every second was part of an hourglass, counting down to when they might never see their friends again. And Narin had been closed off for weeks, while Elrond tried to heal her mind. Meanwhile, the twins had few moments when they were apart from the hobbits, and not a second apart from each other. Neither said it aloud, but they were feverishly trying to make up for all their years alone.  
  
Sarah trailed her hand along the railing as they descended yet another random staircase. "I miss home. Thinking of Amanda reminded me of everything else."  
  
"I know what you mean." Ryan followed close behind, occasionally mouthing the words to a song the elves were singing, but listening to his sister at the same time.  
  
"Remember sneaking up on the roof of Pikes Perk and watching downtown city life while the sun set over the mountains?"  
  
"Yeah. Remember concerts in the park?"  
  
"Of course! Remember Eagle Lake?"  
  
"Yep. How could I forget our sunrise hikes up the hill to the cross? Hey- do you remember how to drive a car?"  
  
Ryan paused for a moment, then laughed in amazement. "No. I don't. Isn't that weird? Then again, its not really a skill we use every day around here."  
  
Sarah giggled in agreement. Of course, she hadn't gotten her license anyway, before they landed in pre-car times. "But I bet I could outride anyone from back home on Atriedes!"  
  
"I bet you could." Ryan stared into the distance for a second, remembering. A small smile crossed his face, but his brow furrowed slightly, sadly. "Remember when Amanda was in Les Mis? That was great."  
  
"Yeah." Sarah came to a bench in a small courtyard. She sat down pensively. "On my own." she began, then looked up at Ryan. He sat obediently to listen. "And now I'm all alone again  
  
Nowhere to turn, no one to go to  
  
Without a home, without a friend  
  
Without a face to say hello to  
  
And now the night is near, and I can make  
  
Believe he's here.  
  
Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping.  
  
I think of him and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping  
  
The city goes to bed  
  
And I can live inside my head.  
  
On my own  
  
Pretending he's beside me.  
  
All alone I walk with him till morning  
  
Without him  
  
I feel his arms around me  
  
And when I lose my way I close my eyes  
  
And he has found me-"  
  
Ryan touched her arm. "You sing it so sadly," he said softly.  
  
"I miss my big sister, Ry." She almost didn't say it, but she let herself go on hesitantly. "And I'm tired. Very tired." She lay her head in his lap, and he stroked her hair just like dad used to do.  
  
"Well, then, silly, what do you think you should do? Start a song- and-dance routine? You should go take a nap, and stop letting me keep you up!" He patted her shoulder. Of course, in his fake joviality, Ryan went too far.  
  
"Who are you calling silly, Silent Bob? And I'm hardly going to sleep at ten o'clock in the morning! I meant tired emotionally! And I'll GIVE you a song-and-dance routine." she hopped up. Ryan rolled his eyes. He wondered what show she would pick from. Sarah had been in many musicals back in their 'other life', and she could dance well, too. But unfortunately for Ryan, there was no ensemble to drown out Sarah's belting.  
  
She placed one hand on her hip and one high in the air, fingers spread wide. She tilted her nose high into the air and turned her head to the side in a melodramatic snoot. He waited.  
  
She held her pose for about ten seconds, then gritted her teeth and whispered without moving, "Ryaaaaaaaan!"  
  
"Okay, okay. Fine. .One, two, three, four-"  
  
And with that count off, she began slowly and dramatically,  
  
"The butcher. the baker.. the grocer. the clerk. are secretly unhappy men, because. The butcher, the baker, the grocer, the clerk. get paid for what they do but no applause. They'd gladly bid their dreary jobs goodbye. for anything theatrical and why?"  
  
She had gone through several sweeping moves, then dashed around the room, pretending to find her place on stage. During one of the actual performances, she had fallen off the stage in the darkness. The memory came up for just a split second before she started.  
  
"Theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's NO business like SHOW business like NO business I know! Everything about it is appealing! Everything the traffic will allow! Nowhere can you get that happy feeling, when you are stealing, that extra bow! There's no business like show business like no business I know! Even with a turkey that you know will fold, you may be stranded out in the cold. Still you wouldn't trade it for a sack of gold, LET'S GO ON WITH THE SHOW!!!!!!!"  
  
By now, Sarah was nearly sweating with exertion from the wide dance movements which she was exaggerating anyway, along with almost shouting the song. She was breathing heavily, about to spring into the next verse, when she heard clapping.  
  
All four hobbits came bounding into the courtyard, and shouting and cheering.  
  
"That was amazing! I have no idea what any of it meant, but that was grand!" Frodo cried, laughing. "You know, Sarah," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "you sing like a boy."  
  
Sarah stopped short. "Well, yeah, I suppose that's right. You're used to hearing girls sing with soft, melodic voices. Sorry!"  
  
"Oh, believe me, we enjoyed it anyway! And we though you were still sleeping! I shall make sure to check twice when I walk by the door to see if you are up yet!" Merry laughed.  
  
"What's show business? And why would you fold a turkey?" Ryan and Sarah burst out laughing while the hobbits giggled unknowingly. Pippin was undoubtedly used to songs that made sense, or told stories, but they didn't care. It was enough for them to see that Sarah was in higher spirits.  
  
"Come play a game with us, Sarah! These elves are so stuffy because of the Ring business, none of them will play with us! And Ryan can come too if he promises not to win!" Pippin skipped around the bench, finally landing right next to Sarah. She giggled and grabbed his hand. As he began to skip away, Sarah latched onto Merry with her other hand. He grabbed Frodo, who grabbed Sam, who grabbed Ryan. The chain trailed out of the courtyard and into the forests of Rivendell, making as much noise as possible.  
  
Pippin stopped suddenly, and turned to face the competitors. "Tip anyone from the other team, and try to get the handkerchief first. Frodo and Ryan are with me, Merry has Sarah and Sam. Merry's team starts north, mine starts south. Go!"  
  
The hobbits scattered, but Sarah and Ryan just sort of stood there. "Wait- uh- WHAT?"  
  
"Come on, Sarah!" Merry cried. So she followed him, giving Ryan a wink as she dashed off. When she glanced back a second later, he was gone as well.  
  
Let the games begin, she thought mischievously.  
  
Pippin's game was simple- it was sort of a version of hide-and-seek plus capture-the-flag, with a small, bright yellow handkerchief. Pippin hid the handkerchief in the branches of a tree where everyone could see it, then counted off. 'Tipping' apparently meant getting another person's head to touch the ground, any way possible. Sarah already had an advantage- Ryan was more of a track runner, while Sarah had always liked hockey.  
  
Then again, Pippin seemed to know who was good at his game and who wasn't. Merry and Sam couldn't tip a cow if they wanted to, let alone another person. But Sarah was very competitive, and focusing on anything that took her mind off of life's troubles was a blessing.  
  
"All right. Who here can run very fast?"  
  
The two hobbits looked at each other. Merry raised his hand, finally. "I'm faster than Sam, at least."  
  
"Only because you're older," Sam mumbled.  
  
"Okay, okay. Merry, tell me about how Frodo and Pippin play."  
  
"Well, Frodo is the best because he can tip really really well. You won't hear a thing and then before you know it, he's on top of you and your head is touching the ground! But he can only do it if he can sneak up on you. If you see him, he'll run away quick, and circle around until you aren't looking. While he does that, Pippin runs right past and climbs up to get the handkerchief. I suppose he'll have Ryan running, too."  
  
Sarah grinned. She had a plan, of course. She took games like this very, very seriously.  
  
"Merry, go after Ryan. He's fast but he won't be able to hide where he is. And he can't wrestle for beans. Once you get him, go after Pippin. Sam, you sneak your way up to the handkerchief, but don't go for it until I give you the signal. I'll get Frodo- I'm pretty sneaky myself!"  
  
At that moment, Pippin came bounding through the trees. "Are you ready yet? We've been waiting!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's go, shortstack." She grinned competitively.  
  
The game began.  
  
***  
  
Three pulled ears, a split lip, and a sprained thumb later, Sarah was up in a tree waiting for Frodo. From the shouts across the forest she could tell that Merry and Ryan were still in the heat of battle, and a whistle told her that Sam was in place. She was guessing that Frodo would attack at the last possible moment, to give Pippin more of a chance. The only question was, who would go for the handkerchief first?  
  
After three more minutes, the scuffling in the distance stopped, and an eerie silence fell over the area. Just go for it, Pippin. Feel safe and secure. Frodo will back you up. Just go for it. she thought mischeviously. Go for it!  
  
Then a leaf fell from a tree near hers, and there was no breeze. Sarah looked at the branches, and realized they crossed with the handkerchief tree. Frodo was going to get there first!  
  
Sarah let out an earsplitting whistle, and Sam leapt from the brush below and scrambled up the tree. Pippin dashed from the other side and almost pulled him down, but Sam was out of reach. Then Frodo swung down and peeled Sam off of the trunk with a loud shout. Both landed in the soft brush, and Sarah leapt down just in time to stop Pippin.  
  
A huge tussle ensued, until Sarah finally couldn't tell who she was pinning down, who was pulling her legs out from under her, and who was grunting in pain. Oh, wait- that was her.  
  
"Get- off- of- me- you- little-"  
  
"OW!"  
  
"AUGH!"  
  
"PIPPIN, GO!"  
  
"I can't, Frodo- she's laying in my leg!"  
  
"SARAH!"  
  
"SAM, WHA- OW!"  
  
"Ahem."  
  
It took her a moment to realize that no one on the ground had just cleared their throat.  
  
"Ahem. Hey, everyone." They all froze. Sarah brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked up. Ryan was standing over them, grinning and waving a little yellow handkerchief.  
  
"Wait- where's Merry?" Sarah pulled herself to her feet.  
  
Ryan tossed the handkerchief at the rest of the hobbits and sauntered past Sarah, murmuring as he went, "I told him you don't like it when boys fight, so he backed off." He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You do funny things to these hobbits, Sarah."  
  
Sarah turned and watched him as he left. After a moment, she let herself think, Merry really did that for me?  
  
And she let a tiny smile cross her face.  
  
***  
  
The parting was difficult- almost unbearable. Ryan watched how much it hurt Sarah, and he almost couldn't bear it. That, plus the parting of the Fellowship- Aragorn in particular- broke Ryan down. They weren't going with them; he had to accept it! But something inside him was screaming that they were making a huge mistake.  
  
He wouldn't let himself think about it. The strain and the mystery surrounding their sister, not knowing what to do, losing the Fellowship (for it truly did feel like a loss), it all weighed on the hearts of the twins. Ryan didn't even want to think about what he would do if he was in love with one of them, like Sarah obviously was. He wasn't surprised that she hadn't realized it yet- Sarah was like that.  
  
But it must have hurt her even more than it hurt him, to watch them go. Ryan, however, had to concentrate on his problems, as well. His wife. not even knowing if the love between them was even real. Would she love him when her mind was finally healed? Would he love her? Could he even stand to lose her, when she had kept him together after the separation from Sarah? Everything was simply too much.  
  
Elrond, being perceptive in the ways of mortal hearts just as he was with the ways of life, realized the heaviness of the twins' hearts. He ordered sleep- and not simply a night's sleep. He sent them to slumber until their minds could truly rest. One month- until the moon shined like it did the last time they were awake- they slept.  
  
And when they awoke, they were met with a truly unexpected, truly horrific reality.  
  
  
  
~~~ Cliffhanger, baby, yeah! Review! 


	13. Frodo, How Could You?

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns it all!!!  
  
A/N: Why are you reading this when you could be reading my wonderful plot twist??? Go! Read!!!  
  
11  
  
When she woke up, the letter was beside her bed. Even before she opened her eyes, she could tell something was very wrong. Just. something intrinsically wrong with. something. But she ignored it, for the sake of reading the letter.  
  
***  
  
Sarah,  
  
Sometimes knowing how to start is almost as difficult as knowing how to finish. But, alas, I know how this must finish. It is telling you that will break my heart.  
  
I have loved. Do not forsake me that. I have known and understood and cared and sacrificed. I can't say that I have only thought of others, yet you were always considered before myself. I couldn't bear being apart from you, but knowing that you might feel as I did- and as I do- offered a painful safety. I could sit in comfort and imagine as far as my mind would go, and never know if any of my imaginings were possible or not because you were far away. I ached to see you, but I was safe from the chance of your indifference. I was a coward, and I can never tell you how sorry I am.  
  
And time has given me a second chance to see you! I can think of you, and the Ring, only. Now I see the look in your eyes when you gaze at me, and I begin to understand. You see me differently than you did before. Maybe you loved me then, but not anymore, and so I here is the reality. You have a quest which you are burdened with, and it has changed your life. You gave up- so much! For the sake of the quest, you gave up a love which would have willingly given himself to you. You are not coming with us.  
  
You, Sarah, you have made me realize what I must do! I love you, but I must give you up. And yet, here is the beauty in my loss- I can save you! We know about the Phenilring and everything connected with it. I cannot let you bear the kind of weight that I bear, and so I take it for you. When you read this, we will be far gone. Please do not follow- the Fellowship will carry the Phenilring as well as the One Ring. I know that Lord Elrond has made you sleep because of your mounting burdens, so perhaps as you awaken we will be far away, and my pain will be great. But so will my joy, because you are free from this! I give up my love for you, and my longing to be near you, so that you can be free. Please forgive me. Farewell, and be in peace.  
  
Frodo  
  
***  
  
A hand flew to her mouth, covering a gasp and holding back horrified exclamation. Her eyes searched the letter over and over again, seeing and yet not seeing.  
  
After a moment, she whispered, "Frodo- how could you?"  
  
But she looked at her hand, and the Phenilring truly was gone.  
  
  
  
~~~The plot goes ever, ever on. Review, please!!!! 


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